Lies of Omission
by MoonlightGypsy
Summary: MA Sequel to Keys of Remembrance. In it, Tonys father comes to visit with disastrous results. Tony discovers a truth that could unravel the fabric of his world.Warnings: refers to childhood abuse/non-con & violence.
1. Chapter 1

He sat numbly, hands in his lap, staring at the walls of the waiting room of Bethesda. He thought somehow, he should be feeling...more. Of something…_anything_.

Instead, he just felt hollow, and cold.

Something like this was bound to happen. He should have known...

He looked down at the floor, absently studying the small diamond pattern in the carpeting of the room.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder.

"Boss," he said hoarsely, looking up at the concerned blue eyes studying him. "How did you know-"

"Dr. Pitt called me. He told me you came in with your Dad earlier." Gibbs handed Tony a cup of coffee and sat down next to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip. He looked at the clock. It was 22:18. He'd been waiting for hours.

"You hear anything yet?" Gibbs asked gently, also glancing at the clock.

"No," Tony said, licking his lips and staring at the diamond patterned floor again. "It's pretty certain...he had a heart attack...but they're still trying to assess the damage. He was unconscious when we got here in the ambulance."

"What happened?" Gibbs asked, leaning forward and looking at him.

Tony took a shaky breath, "Well, in a nutshell, I may have killed my father." He turned his head and looked at Gibbs with a desolate expression in his eyes.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows just for a moment. "Why don't you start from the beginning. We may be here a while anyway..."

Tony nodded, and looked at the wall again.

Gibbs shifted in the chair a little. He knew the younger man was gathering his thoughts. He could only guess at the mixed emotions Tony had about his father, and the possibility of his death. He was torn himself. He hated Tony's father, for how he treated his son. To say he was negligent as a parent was an understatement. Gibbs still found it hard to believe, what his SFA had to endure as a child…

"After...everything we went through...with the Anselmo's," Tony said softly, "my Dad called and left me a message. He…said he'd stop by sometime, but didn't say when exactly, and that he..." he was holding the coffee cup in both hands on his lap, nervously picking at it,"...that he hoped I had called...about the piano because I was playing again."

Gibbs took in a sharp breath.

Tony had just recovered...they had both recovered, from being terrorized months back by Tommy Anselmo, the son of Tony's childhood piano teacher, Robert Anselmo.

Robert Anselmo was a master manipulator, and a pedophile. He'd gotten to Tony right under Senior's nose, when the boy was still only in single digits. And Tony suffered horribly for years, until he refused to play piano at all anymore. His father angrily sent him off to military school, since it was Senior's dream for him to be a professional musician. Sending him away probably saved Tony's life, since Anselmo had been getting more violent with him, on top of the sexual abuse.

While "Bobby" Anselmo had spent time, and even nights away with Tony, his young son, Tommy had watched it all. Though he was friends with Tony, his jealousy grew over the years. He knew, to an extent, what his father did with Tony. But his mind had warped and misconstrued the molestation for love. And when Tony left for the Academy, things got worse for Tommy.

Once Bobby Anselmo lost Tony, he was found guilty more than a year later of raping and murdering a boy who was about Tony's age...and looked a lot like him.

The results on the Anselmo family were devastating, and Tommy's life lead him to a point of unraveling, and bitter hatred towards Tony. He blamed Tony for it all, for taking his father away, and setting him on a path of bad decisions and self -destruction. He was psychotic. And eventually, came after Tony for revenge.

Gibbs was quickly brought back to attention by Tony's voice.

"Of course, Dad didn't know why I left the messages for him...about the old piano...when we were trying to figure out who was sending me the keys." Tony shivered. "He didn't know what Tommy knew about them..."

Gibbs placed a supportive hand on Tony's arm again, letting the thumb trace a soothing circle over the fabric of the cotton shirt he was wearing.

Tony took a deep breath, and continued, in spite of the feeling he couldn't quite get enough air in.

"I didn't mean for it to get so out of control," he put the coffee cup on the floor and rubbed his eyes. "When he came to the door...I knew...I knew it was probably not gonna' go so well..."

(Flashback)

Saturday afternoon had been really productive. He'd paid bills, done laundry, gotten the car cleaned out and washed. And then taken a four mile run.

Tony had just gotten out of the shower when his doorbell rang.

_Probably Mrs. Hoffman_, he thought, _she probably needs me to move a piece of furniture again. _Some of the older folks in the building had caught on that Tony was a good guy, and as a result, he sometimes helped move furniture, walk or feed an occasional dog or cat, and chauffer one or two of the really old ones to the store when he could.

He quickly threw on Jeans and a striped button down shirt and ran to get the door.

He was shocked to see Senior, smiling and standing in a relaxed, almost cavalier pose in his doorway.

"Dad..." Tony managed, as his father easily brushed by him and went into the apartment. He shook his head a little, muttering, "why don't you come in," to himself. He shut the door, with a feeling of anxiety already gnawing at him.

He wasn't prepared for this.

Senior walked right into the living room, and then turned around, grabbing Tony into a hug.

"Good to see you Junior!"

Tony gave him a quick squeeze in return and then backed away. "I had no idea you were in town, Dad."

"Ah, well, I had some business up in New York yesterday and figured I'd just come down here to see you." Senior flashed a dazzling grin and sat himself down on Tony's suede couch.

"The place is looking great!" he said, looking at Tony's belongings and decor. "I was hoping I'd see a piano in here though..."

Tony scowled, just a little. _This already_.

"Dad, you want some coffee?" Tony asked, hoping to deflect just for the moment. He knew it was inevitable, the talk they needed to have. And he knew it would make his father very unhappy, whether he believed him or not.

"Sure," Senior said, uncertain if Tony had changed the subject on purpose.

Tony smiled at him, "Okay." He walked into the kitchen. "How long will you be in town Dad?"

He heard the reply from the living room, "Oh, just for the day. I hope I didn't catch you in the middle of something..."

"No," Tony said, as he scooped the beans into the coffee maker. He had grown accustomed, though begrudgingly so, to his father's haphazard contact. "I was maybe gonna' go see a movie with a friend, but it's nothing that was set in stone."

"Are you sure? Because, I'd love to take you to dinner tonight."

"Sounds good," Tony said, coming back in to sit in a chair across from the couch. The sound of the coffee percolating drifted softly from the kitchen.

"I'm sorry that I've been so hard to catch up with, Junior. I've been so busy..."

Tony wanted to tell him it was alright. But it really wasn't. He knew that it was logical, not to expect anything different from Senior…but it still sucked.

His father continued, "And I really hoped you called about the piano because you decided to play again. Your mother and I thought you were so talented. And Bobby did too..."

Tony was looking away from his father, mouth twisting a little. The old resentment, hurt, and anger were all still there, now made worse by what had happened with Tommy.

Tony took a very deep breath, and looked at his father.

"Dad...we need to talk...about Bobby...and the piano...and Tommy." He had his palms out flat on his knees, trying to anchor himself somehow with the feeling of the denim under them.

"I hope you weren't angry with me, for giving Tommy the piano…you weren't using it after all. It just sat there for so long. It was good to see him. But I still think it's odd how he reacted, when I asked about his father."

Tony bit his lip a moment, and then let it go, looking at the stripe on Senior's tie.

"Bobby was killed in prison."

"Prison?" his father said incredulously.

"When you sent me to military school, and you went to stay in Europe, Bobby...raped and killed a twelve year old boy."

"What?" Senior's eyes were wide with disbelief. "I can't believe that."

Tony felt the accumulated anger starting to leak out of its confines in his mind and heart, to escape his control.

"You're surprised? _**Really **_Dad? Even after I tried to tell you what he was doing to me?"

Senior frowned, and shook his head, looking away. "No. You… made that up. You just didn't want to play anymore..." Then he looked up at Tony again, with a bit of a glare.

"You keep telling yourself that," Tony quipped, and then stood up and started pacing. "You were so _blind_, Dad. You were drinking all the time. And every time you went away, and left me with him-"

"NO!" Senior said loudly.

Tony stopped, and looked at him.

"Yes. _**Yes**_ Dad. He took me to hotels...and...h-he …." Tony was trembling with fury. His father could no longer meet his eyes.

Senior stood up, "I can't believe after all this time...you're still on about this. You must have imagined-"

"What? Imagined _what_?" Tony's eyes were fogging up with waves of water. "Do you know he told me he killed mom? Just to keep me in line? He told me he'd kill you too if I didn't..." he was choking out the words now, "...if I didn't do...what he said. And that piano...he wrote under the keys Dad. " His words were slightly strangled, but he forced himself to continue. "He dated them as mementos. Every time he...every time he took me to a hotel. "

Senior was turning colors, and breathing heavily. But Tony could see he still wasn't able to wrap his head around it.

"He died, in prison Dad. And Tommy...had some kind of breakdown...and came after me and Gibbs..."

"Tommy?" Senior said, looking dazedly back at him. "I don't understand..."

"He blamed me," Tony said, with tears trickling down his face, "he blamed me for taking his father away...for screwing up his life...and he _knew_. He knew about the...the k-keys...and.." his breath was hitching.

"I just can't believe this..." Senior said more softly, now paling. "What...what did Tommy do then with the piano?"

Tony swallowed. He was frightened now. Because after all the years of hating his father for not knowing or seeing what had really happened with Anselmo, he was finally listening. It was sinking in.

"Tommy...sent me the keys...a few at a time. Anonymously. To rattle me...and then he kidnapped Gibbs. To get to me."

"What happened?"

"Tommy almost killed us both…and he… he..." even after months of therapy, thinking about Tommy Anselmo's hands on him, as he begged him to stop, made Tony physically ill. He knew he had to say it. "He raped me, Dad. He…shot Gibbs…and almost killed him…"

Senior looked away, eyes frantic, and scratched his head. He finally looked back at Tony, with real anguish in his eyes.

"I...I had to dig Mom up," Tony moaned, needing to get it all out, "and I didn't want to do it Dad, I swear. But we had to know if Anselmo killed her."

"You..." Senior whispered, horrified, "dug her up?"

Tony nodded, blanching, ready for the backlash.

He was dazed now, looking at his son. "And did he? Did he kill your mother?" it came out as a sharp whisper.

Tony shook his head. "No. He just...wanted me to think it..."

They both stood, trembling, and silent. It was only a few moments, but seemed like a span of years.

Finally, Tony sighed, still shaking. "Say something, Dad..."

"I..." Senior was visibly overwhelmed.

"Dad, you believe me now, right?" Tony asked in a small voice, remembering what it felt like when he had tried to tell the truth to his father years ago. The fear or reliving that moment of rejection from his own father, had never left him.

Senior stared at him, and then a strange expression passed over his face. It went from discomfort, to confusion, to agony in seconds.

The older man clutched at his chest.

"Dad !" Tont leapt forward, leading his father back onto the couch as the man clawed at his son and gasped for air.

"It's gonna' be okay, Dad, breathe!" Tony grabbed his cell phone off the end table and called 911 for an ambulance.

As they waited, Tony knelt next to the couch, with a hand on his father's arm. He felt helpless. Again.

Senior was struggling to breathe, and pasty white.

"T-Tony..."he struggled to open his eyes and look at his son. "M'sorry..."

'Don't think about it now Dad, just try to relax, and breathe..." Tony was so frightened he could barely breathe himself.

For so many years, he hated his father for being a drunk, for not protecting him. And now, he was terrified the man was going to die.

Tony watched his father's labored breathing, and loosened his tie.

He sat back on he heels, and raised a hand to his face, whispering, "What the Hell have I done?"


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs stared at him, open-mouthed.

Tony looked away from him and let out a shaky sigh.

Tony shook his head. "I shouldn't have done it. I should've just…lied or said something else to end the conversation about the piano. I…" he closed his eyes for a moment, "I'm just still…so angry with him. I couldn't stop myself…"

"This is not your fault, Tony. I'm betting your dad had a problem with his heart before this. And…you had every right to get angry at him, and tell him the truth." Gibbs hoped his words were getting through to the younger man. But Tony's hands were moving, with a subtle wringing action…

He stood up suddenly, and began pacing as Gibbs watched him.

"I shouldn't…I shouldn't fucking _care_," Tony said with sudden vehemence. "He left me to the wolves, and then sent me away once I wasn't gonna' be the family star…" he was breathing a little harshly.

Gibbs noticed he was getting worked up, but patiently waited him out.

"God," he said finally, stopping for a moment to look at the clock, "are they ever gonna' tell me what's going on?" He huffed and then paced a little more.

Finally he sat back down again next to Gibbs.

"He's your father," Gibbs said softly. "No matter how he screwed up, he's still your father."

Tony swallowed, and looked at the wall. He nodded slowly. He sighed again. Then he looked at Gibbs.

"I…feel guilty for hating him. And stupid for loving him." Tony frowned at Gibbs, worried that he wouldn't understand. "And when I don't feel those things about him…I feel nothing at all…"

Gibbs put a hand on Tony's neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. He let his gaze fill with compassion for his friend. "I know." Gibbs wanted to kill Senior with his own hands once or twice. But he also knew that Tony would always have unresolved feelings about his father. And he didn't want to make it worse.

Just then the waiting room door opened, and Dr. Brad Pitt stepped in.

Tony knew by the way Pitt looked at him, and also by the simple reason it was _him_ stepping into the room, that it was bad. His brow creased as he closed his eyes and shook his head. He opened them and stood up, waiting for the words.

"Tony…" Pitt said in sad tone, "he's still alive, but…there was too much damage to his heart. There's nothing they can do." Pitt put a steadying hand on Tony, who became a little dazed, looking around for a moment before focusing back on the doctor. "I think you should go see him. It won't be long…"

Tony stared at him for a moment, feeling the cold shudder roll through his body. He heard Gibbs offering to go in with him, but he shook his head. "I need to do this…myself," he turned to Gibbs, and the older man embraced him.

"I'll be here, if you need me," Gibbs murmured in his ear, before releasing him.

Tony stepped back, giving him a watery-eyed smile, and a subtle nod of thanks.

* * *

><p>He followed Pitt out to the curtained bed in ICU where his father lay dying.<p>

He was almost grey, connected to a host of machines.

Pitt left, after pulling a chair next to the bed for Tony. He gave him a sad, sympathetic look, and then left them to say their peace.

Senior's breathing was labored. A fine sheen of sweat coated the sickly colored skin.

Tony was having a hard time believing that this man was the same one who flew all over the world wearing expensive suits and wooing women half his age.

He took a breath, and took one of his father's hands. He wished he could say nice things to him…words of comfort. Even be able to tell him he loved him. But the bitterness, the anger, and hurt, all blocked his ability to choke the words out.

"Junior…" the raspy whisper came out, as Senior tried to open his eyes.

"Dad…just rest. Everything's okay…" Tony's words came out small and quivering.

"Nnnoo…Tony…" Senior struggled. "S'not going to be okay…this time…"

"This time?"

"Didn't wanna' worry you…the ol' ticker…" he pulled in a wheezing breath, "…been giving me trouble here and there…" he turned his head, looking at his son with pained green eyes. "No time…now…"

Tony bit his lip to try and keep a hold over himself.

"I'm so sorry, son…" the old man rasped. "I failed you in every way…I'm sorry…"there were tears of remorse flowing from his eyes, drifting into the nasal cannula.

"It's okay Dad," Tony whispered, afraid his voice would break.

It wasn't okay. It would never be okay. But Tony didn't have the heart to let his father die carrying such pain and guilt, even if he deserved it.

He mustered up a little strength, forcing his voice to sound out.

"You didn't know. You were just doing the best you could without mom there…"his breath hitched a bit.

"You were…just a kid…Tony…" Senior said, now barely audible and grasping Tony's one hand in his.

Then suddenly, his eyes started to close, and the machinery started going crazy. His hand went slack.

As the nurses and ICU doctor ran in, Tony stood up and back from the bed, letting his father's hand go. After several moments of frantic checking, they all slowed their movements down.

Only the doctor looked at him.

"I'm sorry, Agent DiNozzo, your father is gone."

Tony looked at him, and nodded. Without a word, he left the ICU, and didn't look back.

Gibbs had been pacing. Waiting on Tony, and wondering if he should call Abby to come down to Bethesda.

It wasn't long after Tony had left, when Gibbs saw him walking slowly down the hall with a blank expression.

Gibbs stood, watching him, with concerned eyes. His heart ached for the younger man, and the mixed bag of emotions Senior's death undoubtedly Tony would now be left to deal with.

As Tony got closer, Gibbs took a few paces to meet up with him.

"Tony."

The green eyes shifted up at him, with more of a bewildered look than the pain he expected to see.

"Boss…" Tony said sedately, slowing down a little to talk to him. "I'm…just gonna' take a walk…to clear my head…"

Gibbs wanted to reach for him, but he could tell Tony meant it when he said he needed to walk. So instead, he stared at Tony for a moment, and then nodded, without a word.

Tony looked down for a moment and then back to him. He tried the barest smile, before turning, and continuing his way down the hall.

Gibbs sighed, watching his back as he left, knowing he would be going to the younger man's apartment later, to gather him and his things up, and bring him to the house. There was no way he was going to let Tony go through this alone.


	3. Chapter 3

When Gibbs got to Tony's apartment it was 01:00. He gave him a little time, but knew he didn't want him alone for too long.

He knew Tony felt responsible for Senior's heart attack, though Bethesda had gotten hold of Senior's recent medical information. The man had been having heart trouble for a while.

When he got to Tony's door, he found it ajar, and instinct made him pull his gun.

He nudged it open slowly.

"Tony?" he called softly.

He got no answer. He switched the light on next to the door.

Tony was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, with his head back on the wall. He looked up at Gibbs, as if confused as to why Gibbs would be there.

Saying nothing, Tony turned his head and looked back at the wall in front of him.

Gibbs sighed and put his gun back in the holster. And then he went and sat down next to Tony, leaning in just slightly so he could in some way bolster him physically.

They sat in silence for a while.

"You know," Tony finally said in almost a murmur, "he finally believed me. After all these years…we finally talked about it and he believed me."

Gibbs sighed. "I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony snorted a little. "Apologies…don't go breaking your rules for my father, Boss…"

"Not for him. For you. For the pain he helped cause you. And because you could have used more time to…work things out with him…"

Tony turned his head, looking at Gibbs, brow furrowed. The words had affected him. And he was finally feeling pain.

"Yes," he said in a bare whisper, "could'a used more time…" His eyes were glassy as he looked away again.

Gibbs waited a while.

Then he slowly got up, offering a hand to the younger man.

"Come on," he said, with compassion in his blue eyes. "Let's get your stuff together. You can stay by me a few days and I'll help you with all the arrangements."

Tony looked up at him, and nodded slightly, before taking the hand up.

* * *

><p>Senior had a will and all his arrangements prepaid. Tony found out when he called Mr. Gardiner, his father's trusted lawyer. He wasn't sure if it had been planned because his father had been ill for a while…or just as a usual part of dealings with his lawyer. At any rate, there was a certain amount of relief in there being a plan.<p>

It was Senior's wish to be cremated, and have his ashes spread over Long Island Sound. It was where his parents had met, on the rocky beach of the island's north shore. And this, the lawyer instructed, was Tony's responsibility to execute since he would get the urn after the service. The lawyer also told Tony he was gathering things together to review with him after the funeral, in regards to what Senior had left in his will to Tony.

Since the services would be held in upstate New York, that was where the body was shipped. This was due to the fact Tony had one remaining Aunt, Theresa, who lived in Elmsford, and was the only family member on his father's side who had been in touch with them.

Gibbs made arrangements for the flights and limos to take them to and from the funeral home and Aunt Theresa's, for the traditional meal after the service.

Vance took the team off rotation for several days without complaint, and called Tony directly to offer his condolences, suggesting he take some time off. The only ones who could not be spared were Ducky and Palmer, who had to cover the running teams. Ziva had been asked by Vance to go on a diplomatic mission to Israel, and wasn't due back for another week. Gibbs left her a message, just to let her know what happened.

Over the two days of phone calls and arrangements, Tony was quiet. Gibbs didn't push, knowing this was a lot to absorb for anyone. The rest of the team showed at different times, expressing their care and concern, especially Abby.

And finally, they had caught the flights to New York LaGuardia airport early Tuesday morning, and the limos took both Abby and McGee, and Gibbs and Tony towards the service.

Gibbs could have gotten one car for them all, but he thought Tony might need to have one to himself after the service.

He stared at the younger man, sitting next to him.

Tony was in an Armani suit, black, with a charcoal grey tie, and sunglasses. He was absently looking out the window, watching the New York State thruway pass by.

"How many batches of cookies did Abby make for you?" Gibbs asked.

Tony turned and smiled. "I think like seven or eight. I particularly liked the star cut-outs."

Gibbs frowned a little, "I didn't think you even ate them…" Tony hadn't eaten much over the last two days, though Abby had shown up at the house with McGee and Ducky, with flowers and food. She tried desperately to make it better for Tony. In the end, he didn't want to talk. All he really wanted from her was to curl up together, and watch movies in the guest room. Which she did, but continued to bake. Compulsively, in Gibbs' kitchen. Until the entire table was covered with several kinds of cookies.

Gibbs assumed she had to keep busy in order to deal with a quiet Tony.

"No…I know. I didn't eat many. But…they were nice to look at…"

"How long's it been since you saw your Aunt?'

Tony shifted in the leather seat. "Oh…I dunno…has to be when I graduated the Academy."

"She came, huh?"

"Yeah. Theresa actually thought it was a good thing, unlike Dad, who thought…well, that I was making a mistake with my career choice. You know the story. But she was always kind to me when I saw her…though it was rare. Dad didn't make a lot of time for her…or anyone really, after my mom died."

"I guess…" Gibbs said carefully, "she didn't know much about what went on in your father's house."

Tony licked his lips, and Gibbs caught the grim set of his mouth, which was the only indication he was disturbed by the question, since the sunglasses were very dark.

He took a breath, and then exhaled. "No. She didn't know. She always thought my father pretty much walked on water. Her big brother. Successful business man with an estate…and I never told her otherwise."

Gibbs nodded.

Tony was silent for a moment, and seemed to be thinking. He shifted again in the car seat, turning more towards Gibbs.

"Boss…I…really appreciate you coming with me. And…not letting me stay in my apartment…I'm pretty sure I might have gone a little crazy there."

Gibbs nodded slightly, and put a hand on Tony's arm, giving it a squeeze.

"Got you're six, Tony. Always."

Tony smiled a little, and then went back to looking out the window.

* * *

><p>MacDougal's Funeral home was where the service was held. It was only three miles from Aunt Theresa's house.<p>

A long burgundy awning stretched forward from the front doors. They could feel the cool air conditioned air on their faces as they entered.

They all walked in with Tony, not really saying much, but taking in the sign that read "Anthony Dinozzo Suite 1" and several other names under it, for other services being held that day.

Other people walked through the elegant and simple hallways with puffy eyes, murmuring in hushed voices. White lilies in vases were in every corner.

Gibbs followed Tony down a hallway to the left, Abby and McGee trailing behind them, only occasionally whispering to eachother. He kept expecting someone to recognize Tony or approach him about his father.

It finally happened, in front of the doors to the suite where his father's service was being held.

"Anthony! Is that you?" A portly older man in a navy suit approached, putting a hand on Tony's arm.

He took off his sunglasses and said cordially, "Mr. Byron," and put his hand out to shake the other man's.

He had short grey curly hair and a beard, and grey eyes that were filled with intelligence.

"I'm so sorry about your father, Anthony." The man was genuine and his expression held a degree of sorrow.

Tony nodded, "Thanks, Mr. Byron." He turned to Gibbs, flanked by Abby and McGee and said, "This is one of my dad's old business partners. They ahh, spent a lot of time traveling together…"

The man turned to them, and smiled, shaking all their hands as Tony introduced them all, as his friends.

When he took Abby's hand, he said, "My Tony, this is a very pretty friend."

She giggled just a little, and Tony smiled when he caught McGee's slightly jealous glance.

When the introductions were over, Tony asked, "Mr. Byron, is Theresa here?"

"Oh yes, and several of your father's business associates who go way back. Why don't you go in? Can I get you guys anything to drink?"

They all shook their heads no.

Gibbs smiled when Tony asked Mr. Byron if he wouldn't mind getting Gibbs a coffee.

When they walked into the suite, lined with chairs, they all noticed the ceramic urn on a stand next to the podium. It was at the front of the room. It was a light blue with an ornate white pattern on it.

Before anyone could comment, a woman's voice chimed loudly from the side of the room.

"Antonio!" she said loudly, and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him.

"Hi Aunt Theresa," Tony said, putting his arms around the petite woman with silvery hair, twirled up on her head in a bun. She wore simple grey slacks and a peach silk blouse.

"She's so cute," Abby whispered in Gibbs' ear.

Gibbs shook his head at Abby.

Tony's aunt looked to be eighty pounds wet. And at most was 4'11".

She pulled away from Tony, looking up at him, and lightly smacked his cheek.

"You're still such a handsome boy, Antonio. You look good. And your father told me how well you are doing, last time we spoke," her voice took a little sad tone.

"Ah, really?"

"Yes. He told me you're a Fed now, ah?" she had an unmistakeable Italian accent.

"Well…I'm actually-"

"And who are these people?" she turned, cutting him off.

They could see her green eyes now, reminiscent of Tony's father. And the resemblance of his features.

He introduced them all again.

Except, when he got to Abby, his Aunt turned to him, "This is a friend of yours ? Lei' e' strega, no?"

Tony choked a little, while Abby's eyes went wide, understanding the word. Gibbs suppressed a chuckle and McGee just looked confused.

"No, Aunt Theresa, she's not a witch. She just likes that style of clothing," Tony eyed Abbys black lace and purple outfit, along with her usual extreme lipstick and goth jewelry.

"Oh, no, I-" Abby started to say.

"AH-AH, " Aunt Theresa said, "I've got my eye on you."She glared at Abby, leaning forward while the younger woman leaned back from her.

"Aunt Theresa, why don't we go sit down and catch up," Tony said, seeing Abby start to fume. "And why don't you guys just sit for a bit, and we'll be back," Tony suggested, and pushed his Aunt gently forward while turning to them and mouthing "sorry" to Abby, though his eyes said he was highly amused.

"Well," McGee said, "this is going to be interesting." He smiled smugly at Abby, while Gibbs let out the chuckle he was holding.

"Oh yeah, it is," said Gibbs, watching Abby fold her arms against her body in annoyance.

"Should've …brought my…voodoo dolls…" she stammered out, still in a bit of a huff.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony sat and talked to his Aunt while a few people trickled in. Mostly Senior's business associates. Also now there were dozens of floral arrangements lining both sides of the room. Sent by people who couldn't come in person.

There were large wreaths and other sprays of roses and lilies. McGee brought one over to show him was from Director Vance. It made Tony smile a bit that Vance had been that thoughtful.

Tony always found the smell of lilies to be a little overpowering, almost obnoxious. A little like his father. _Maybe that's appropriate_, he thought, _after all._

His Aunt was crying, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, and Tony tried to comfort her by putting his arm around her and kissing her temple. Her silvery hair was soft, as he inhaled the familiar scent of lavender and talcum powder. She had always smelled like that.

A pastor walked in, and everyone seemed to know it was time to take their seats.

Gibbs, Abby, and McGee sat behind Tony and Aunt Theresa, a bit diagonally to the right of them.

Tony tried not to look at the ceramic urn. It was so final…

He tried to relax back a little in his seat, as the pastor took to the podium, and began speaking.

It was the usual. Roman Catholic flavored service, with the pastor describing Senior as a hard working, loving father.

Tony sighed a little, feeling subtly accosted by the words.

_Loving father. What a joke._

He knew he needed to keep it reigned in. The ferocious rage that he knew he had inside…waiting… _Just handle it._ Get through the service without letting the anger and the pain out.

Mr. Byron came up to speak next about Tony's father.

"Most of you here knew Tony Senior as a business associate. But obviously saw something more in him. Something deeper and genuine, that brought you here today," Byron said evenly, looking around the room.

Gibbs and Abby both caught the tension coming off Tony, as he quickly rolled his head from side to side, as if to relieve it. They knew he was having a hard time with hearing about what a wonderful man his father was, when he had let Tony down so badly.

Byron continued.

"He was always looking for the next deal, always optimistic. And when you traveled with him or went in to negotiate, he was both entertaining, and very ethical. He _always_ took the time to make sure everyone had what they needed."

Tony coughed for a moment, and shifted in his chair, sighing again. His Aunt rubbed his shoulder in an effort to comfort him, not knowing it was fury, not grief, causing him to stiffen next to her.

Abby sighed deeply, and Aunt Theresa turned, now dry eyed, and gave her a look filled with daggers.

Abby couldn't help herself. She made the Italian sign of warding off the evil eye to her, subtly, keeping her hand close to her body. She smiled a little, raising her eyebrows over her pale green eyes.

Aunt Theresa's eyes widened and she scowled, turning quickly around to face the podium again.

Gibbs turned and glared at Abby, wiping the subtle smile off her face. She quickly looked forward. He saw McGee on the other side of her, absently looking at the flowers at the side of the room.

"I spent a lot of time with Tony. He was a good partner, a savvy and charming businessman, and devoted father," Byron went on.

Tony shifted again in his seat. Now getting very uncomfortable. His hands were clenched in his lap.

"He talked about Tony a lot, and about how talented he is." Byron looked at Tony directly.

Tony tried to suppress a shudder. He was grateful to feel the firm hand grip his shoulder from behind. Gibbs. Reminding him they were there. He took a deep breath and tried to relax as the fingers let go.

"He was an amazing man. It's a great loss, for us all," Byron said, and Tony sighed with relief as he left the podium.

Gibbs heard a sniffle next to him, and his eyes widened as he saw Abby was tearing up.

Several more business associates of Senior's got up to speak. All of them singing his praises. Thankfully, none of them made any references to what kind of father he was, or to Tony's musical abilities.

He felt back in control, until Aunt Theresa got up to speak.

That was when he felt the color drain from his face. _Please…_

Aunt Theresa stood for a moment, looking at the urn, and then turned to face the room.

"My brother, Antonio, and I, came from nothing. But that didn't stop him. He always told me, "Theresa, I'm gonna be somebody. You'll see. I'm gonna make it big." And don't you know, that's exactly what he did. Even though our parents never told us we could do anything. He was so smart. He made good decisions, and married a beautiful woman, who gave him a beautiful son." She smiled at Tony, who returned it weakly.

"It was a shame, she wasn't with us all longer. But she was so proud of you too, Tony. She and your father." She glanced at the urn and then returned her eyes to the room.

"Tony is so talented, and smart like his father. My brother could see it. And he gave Tony the gift of music…"

Tony drew in a breath, and shook his head ever so slightly, wondering if he was going to be able to stop the reaction that was roiling in his stomach.

Behind him, Abby pulled out a lacy kerchief, starting to gasp quietly, crying into it. Gibbs put an arm around her, touched but perplexed at her sadness. McGee still hadn't noticed, but Gibbs knew Tony must be sickened by the heartfelt speech his Aunt was giving…

"I still have pictures and recordings," she said to Tony as she looked at him, "of some of the performances you gave on that piano in your father's study. They were so amazing…"

Tony raised a shaking hand to his face, and rubbed his eyes, feeling like his life was being drained out of him. He prayed she would finish, before he needed to throw up. He didn't want to lose it here…in front of all these people. He felt cold, and tried to force away the nightmarish vision of his hands on blood splattered piano keys…

He couldn't help the furrow in his brow, or the grim set of his mouth, as he gazed back up bleakly at his Aunt.

"He was very proud of you," she continued to look at Tony, "for the man you have become. I know he wanted to see you more than he did…but he loved you, very much." She smiled again. "My brother was a good man, a self-made man. And I loved him more than I have words for," her voice wavered a little. "I will miss him. May God rest his soul."

Tony looked up at the ceiling for a moment, beyond relief that his Aunt left the podium to return to her seat.

The pastor asked if anyone else wanted to say something.

It was quiet except for Abby, who was sobbing more loudly into her hanky, with black mascara running down her cheeks.

Gibbs wanted to get up and use some four letter explicatives to paint what he thought would be a truer picture of Tony's father. It was a gratifying fantasy…

Tony saw that no one expected him to speak. _Thank God,_ he thought.

They said the Lord's Prayer, and then the pastor mentioned there would be a meal directly after the service at Aunt Theresa's house if anyone wanted to attend, to spend some time reminiscing about Senior.

As soon as it concluded, Tony got up, looking at no one, and left the room. He walked straight out, through the lobby, on quaking legs. He needed air. He walked to the end of the building, and leaned against the warm bricks, gasping, and trying to regain his composure.

* * *

><p>Aunt Theresa had watched Tony leave the room with pained eyes.<p>

"I'll take care of him," Gibbs told her gently, "he just needs a minute to himself."

"You'll bring him to my house, ah?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes."

"Bene," she said, nodding, and then turned to thank the people who had come to the service.

McGee was rubbing Abby's back, but there was no sign she was letting up.

Gibbs turned to her as well.

"Abby," he said softly, "you okay?"

She pulled the kerchief from her face, wiping at her eyes. "**No!**" she choked out, a little loudly. "I'm not okay."

Gibbs noticed her hands were trembling, much as Tony's had been by the end of the service.

She looked at Gibbs, with absolute anguish. "I'm freaking **angry**…" She hissed and then hiccupped. Only one or two people seemed to notice the outburst, but quickly returned to their conversations. "No…m-make that furious." She sniffled and then forced out, "That he actually had to sit here…and _listen_ to that…it's…" she tried to hold back another sob. "It's awful. To be reminded…" she squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment, and then looked at Gibbs with ferocity. "He was a bastard. A _bastard_!" She wiped at more tears. "Tony deserved better…than..him."

Gibbs swallowed, and looked from Abby to McGee, who was also pale now.

"You're right," he said in almost a whisper, "but…there's not much we can do about it now. Except be there for Tony."

She nodded, and leaned in for Gibbs to hug her.

"I, ah, think I'm gonna' go check on Tony," McGee said a little shakily. His big eyes focused on Gibbs.

"Good," Gibbs said, while rubbing Abby's back, "we'll be out in a minute."

McGee nodded and walked past Aunt Theresa talking to Mr. Byron.

Gibbs knew that Tony was only hanging on by a thread at the end of the service, and all it would take was seeing Abby like this to undo whatever control he had left.


	5. Chapter 5

When McGee went outside, it didn't take him long to find Tony. He was leaning back, on the building, sunglasses on, arms folded on his chest.

It was the body language he was expecting.

As he neared his friend, he asked, "You okay, Tony?"

Tony turned his head, and pushed off the wall. "Yeah," he said tiredly. "I'm okay."

McGee took in the still pale face, and vague scowl.

"Okay...well, Gibbs and Abby should be out soon."

Tony nodded.

McGee shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Tony..."

"Tim."

"I...," McGee ran a hand through his hair. "This must be...really hard...for you. And, if you need to talk..."

Tony sighed. "Thanks. It is...hard. I...thought I was gonna' lose it in there..." he looked down, but it was hard for McGee to see what he was looking at exactly with the sunglasses on. "I really appreciate you guys being here." He picked up his head, and smiled wanly.

"You would do the same for us, Tony."

Just then, Gibbs and Abby walked out of the doors of the funeral home, and they could see, she was still leaning on Gibbs just a bit.

They walked over to meet them on the sidewalk, in front of the limos.

Tony smiled at her, and her puffy eyes. "You okay Abs?"

She nodded, and then leapt at him, trying not to launch into another crying fit.

"Tony..." she groaned. "Your Aunt...hates me..."she said, instead of calling his father names, which is what she really wanted to do.

He chuckled and stroked her hair. He gave her a squeeze. "Nah. She's just stressed. She'll warm up to you at her house... but just in case...I need to show you the right way to give the horns. Thumb stays in," he smiled, shooting it at her.

They all smiled at that.

She was still sniffling, and stared at Tony, trying to see if he was okay.

"Boss, why don't you go with Abs, and McGee can come with me to Aunt Theresa's?" Tony thought that Abby needed Gibbs more than he did at the moment. He knew damned well she wasn't this upset about his Aunt not liking her.

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, as if evaluating him, and then nodded, "Sure. We'll see you there. C'mon, Abby," he gently pulled her towards the car.

"We'll see you guys there, okay?" Abby said, as Gibbs opened the door for her to get in.

"See you there," said McGee.

They both gave a single wave as they turned to go to their car.

"Mr. DiNozzo !" they heard a voice call.

Tony recognized , his father's lawyer, carrying the ceramic urn in an open box and a large manilla envelope. The man was older, and graying at the temples. He had round spectacles. He was tall and thin, with an olive complexion.

Tony always thought he looked like The Count.

"Mr Gardiner..." Tony said, a little breathlessly as the man handed him the box with the urn in it. "Guess I can't leave Senior here, can I?" Tony smiled bitterly.

"Ahh, no, . I'm afraid he needs to go with you. And also, I have prepared some initial paperwork for you, and a copy of your father's will. We can review it sometime later, as I know this must be a hard time for you."

"You have no idea," Tony sighed, switching the box with the urn under one arm, to take the envelope.

"My card is enclosed, in case you don't have my information. Please just contact me when you're up to it." He put his hand out to Tony, "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Tony handed the box to McGee, who turned a little green having to take it.

Now with the hand free, Tony shook Gardiner's. "Thanks. I'll be in touch."

The man nodded, and walked away.

Tony watched him for a moment, and then looked at McGee.

"Wow, McPukey, you look worse than I feel." He gazed at the box in McGee's hands.

"Uh...w-well...it's...your Dad..."

"And how many dead bodies have we seen?" He teased, without any malice.

"But..."

"Okay, let's just put that in the car and get going," Tony said, glancing at the envelope in his hand. He was somewhat curious.

Once they were en route to Aunt Theresa's, Tony settled back across from McGee, in the leather seat, and opened the envelope.

McGee watched him, but tried not to stare or interrupt him with questions.

He looked out the window a bit while Tony pulled out a package of papers.

There were several loose pages paper-clipped with Gardiner's card, copies of the will, with assets listed, and an envelope with his name hand written on it, from Senior. The back had a wax seal.

"Huh," Tony murmured. Wax seals were pretty fancy for a note...it was obviously personal...he felt a flutter of apprehension as to what Senior had to say in it.

He first perused the loose pages. As he read, his eyebrows raised, and he took off his sunglasses, lips slightly parted.

"Tony..."McGee couldn't stand it, "what does it say?"

Tony's eyes flickered up to McGee's, without raising his head. He smiled.

"It says I own the Long Island estate, several other properties, cars, and some money as well, in mutual funds and offshore accounts."

"H-how much?" McGee couldn't help but be excited for Tony. "Uh...you don't have to tell me...if you don't want to..." At least something good could come out of all the Hell Senior caused his friend.

Tony grinned wider at him, "Wouldn't you like to know, McNosey."

McGee smiled and snorted, feeling a little embarrassed for asking.

Tony tilted his head. "Just kidding McGee. You're...one of my best friends. Of course I'm gonna' tell you."

McGee smiled, and rolled his eyes. "Tony!"

"Two point five."

"Two hundred and fifty thousand?"

"Million."

"Mmmm...mmm-" McGee couldn't spit it out.

Tony laughed a little. "Yeah, McGee, Dad was on a roll recently." He sighed, looking down at the paperwork. "That's a lot of Armani."

McGee nodded, still shocked.

"Wow," McGee blew out.

Tony smiled again, "Yeah," and put the papers back in the manilla envelope. He knew he should be ecstatic about the money. But…somehow, it didn't really make up for anything.

That just left the smaller envelope, with his father's handwriting on it.

He wanted to open it...but...

Tony looked up at McGee, who turned a little and looked out the window, realizing Tony wanted to read it without being stared at.

He heard Tony rip it open, while he saw they were approaching a bit of a bridge. He twisted a little, looking for water, but it was just a drop off over a large, rocky gulley. He couldn't see how deep it was yet, since they were still approaching it. He did see the tangerine type glow of sunset on the rocks, and thought it was a pretty color.

After a few moments, he heard Tony draw in a sharp breath, and when he turned, he became immediately alarmed.

Tony was staring at the letter with trembling hands, and the look on his face...McGee had never seen it. It was an ugly twist between shock and horror. A strange guttural moan left Tony's throat, as his green eyes glazed over with blind fury.

"Tony-" McGee said softly.

"**Sonofabitch**!" Tony crumbled the papers in his hands, looking at nothing for a moment. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. "You..._fucking_ son of a bitch..."

"Stop the car," he leaned forward and called to the driver.

McGee was dumbstruck. Whatever was in that letter...must have been bad…

"Sir...we're just about over the bridge..." the driver countered up front. He was an older man, with leathery skin, and short grey hair.

"I said **STOP** the fucking **CAR**!" Tony's eyes looked wild.

Wordlessly, the driver pulled over on the bridge, near to the far end.

"Tony...w-what..." McGee tried to say, but the other man was lost in the fit he was having.

Tony opened the car door, roughly and got out. He stood, gasping, taking deep breaths.

McGee thought to call Gibbs, or get out and try to talk to him again. Just as he was wresting with what option to go with, he saw Tony lean into the car, and grab the urn out of the box.

"Tony!" McGee cried, and now scrambled out of the car after his friend.

As he stood up, he saw the gulley was very deep, and they were just next to the safety rail of the bridge. A car drove past behind them.

As Tony walked to the rail, McGee suddenly knew what he was going to do.

"No! Tony - **don't**!"

But it was too late.

Tony took the urn, and launched it over the side of the bridge, making a sound that was between a cry and a sob.

It sailed through the air, seemingly in slow motion. And then it hit the rocks, with a shattering clay pot sound, while the ash immediately billowed up in a mushroom type cloud...

McGee was shocked, and at an absolute loss as to what to do.

Tony was gripping the rail, shaking. He seemed to suddenly realize he had dropped the letter on the ground, and picked it up with unsteady hands.

McGee watched, open mouthed, as Tony shredded it up into little pieces, starting to hiccup, laughing and crying at the same time. Then he tossed the pieces over, to float down and flutter towards the drifting cloud of ash.

McGee was trembling now himself.

He slowly took the several steps next to Tony, who was gripping the rail again. He was muttering under his breath, something unintelligible.

"Tony," McGee said in almost a whisper, as he tentatively reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.

He startled when Tony pulled back violently, and looked at him, with tears streaming down his face.

"Tony," McGee said more firmly, trying to calm them both.

Tony's eyes registered that his friend was trying to get through to him.

"McGee..."he croaked. "Go."

"But-"

"Get in the car, McGee. I need to ..." he looked around, taking in the bridge, figuring out where he was. "We…we're only a mile from Aunt Theresa's. I need...need to clear my head..." his words were coming out slightly strangled.

"Tony, I don't think-"

"McGee, get in the fucking car before I _shoot_ you," Tony said with menace in his eyes.

McGee nodded, swallowing, "Okay. But if you don't show in an hour we're coming to look for you..." He knew Tony wouldn't really ever shoot him. Would he? No...he just needed air to absorb...whatever that was...in the letter…

Tony nodded once and then turned his back to McGee.

McGee got in the car, and closed the door.

"Everything okay?" the driver asked.

"No...not so much," McGee said shakily. "Just got to the next stop. He's gonna' walk the rest of the way."

"Not taking the death so well, huh," the driver said, almost with concern.

"No."

They pulled away, as McGee saw Tony lean forward and put his head in his hands, still leaning on the rail.

Suddenly, he worried he made the wrong call. Maybe he shouldn't have left him alone.

He pulled out his phone, and hit the speed dial. It rang only once.

"Boss...I think we have a problem..."


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs saw him walking, slowly, face very pale.

"Right here," he told the driver, and hopped out of the car. "Just go back to the house," Gibbs told him, before shutting the door.

Tony was just up the street.

It was a working class neighborhood. This particular street had a wide sidewalk and staggered row houses with garages underneath and small front yards.

People were out, here and there, enjoying the summer twilight.

Gibbs knew it was bad from what McGee told him. He had been very surprised at what Tony did with the urn, and pointed out to McGee he should not bring that up in front of Tony's Aunt. Luckily, Aunt Theresa was busy with the other guests so she only asked where Tony was once or twice before Gibbs left to look for him.

He wondered what could have been in Senior's letter, to elicit such a response from his friend.

As he caught up to Tony, falling in stride next to him, he was even more disturbed that he didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, " he called softly, not wanting to startle him.

But Tony jumped a little anyway, and then came to a stop. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, as he looked at Gibbs, expression empty.

"Hi Boss," he barely breathed out.

Gibbs waited for just a moment, his blue eyes scanning the green ones for telling signs that might give him a clue...

"I heard you...kicked your Dad out of the car on the way here," he said calmly.

Tony immediately looked away.

"You okay?" Gibbs pressed.

Tony looked at the sidewalk, and then back to Gibbs.

"M'fine."

"Uh-huh," Gibbs said, "then what's with the toss at the bridge?" He shifted a bit on his feet. "McGee said you were going to shoot him?" he smiled slightly at that.

"I..." Tony seemed to be searching for words. "The service was a bit much for me...and..."

"And you don't wanna' talk about it."

After another hesitation, "No." His eyes suddenly went from vacant, to imploring.

Gibbs softened his glance. He knew that whatever it was, Tony wasn't going to tell him at the moment.

"Let's get back to the house, since your Aunt is probably tying Abby to a stake by now."

Tony smiled just a little at that, and blew out a shaky breath as they continued walking. He felt too coiled up inside to tell Gibbs about the letter. He needed time to work it out for himself. He couldn't help but feel it was a sick joke, and that Senior was just screwing with him one last time…

Regardless, he felt some small amount of comfort as the older man gave him a squeeze on the shoulder as they made their way back to Aunt Theresa's.

* * *

><p>When they got there, there were some of Senior's business associated milling about.<p>

Aunt Theresa was doting on McGee, feeding him copious amounts of food, telling him he was too skinny, as Abby looked on from the corner of the 1970's style living room in disgust.

Apparently, Aunt Theresa had ignored her completely.

Abby made a fine contrast in her mostly black garb on the sofa. It had been amazing to them all, to see white crushed velour couches and chairs, with carved mahogany accents, covered in plastic. It was probably why the furniture had lasted so long.

As Tony and Gibbs drifted into the room, Tony smiled a little, glancing first at Abby, and then looking at the two paintings over the couch she was pouting from. They were portraits, of a Spanish man and Spanish lady. Both of them had eyes that followed you all over. When Tony had come for a visit with Senior (which was rare), the eyes of the paintings would follow and mock him, haunting him for several hours past the visit.

Before his Aunt noticed him, he quickly dove into the dining room, where she had an elaborate spread of food out for all the guests. But he bypassed that for the cart along the window of the mustard gold room, and went straight for the scotch.

Gibbs had gone over to Abby, after seeing her dismay, and sat next to her.

She leaned over and asked in a low voice, "Is Tony okay?"

Gibbs glanced around for him as he answered, seeing Tony as he threw back a full highball shot in the other room. "No."

"What happened? McGee all but dragged me outside to tell me about him pitching the urn. I mean...I know he's angry. It makes perfect sense he's upset, I'd like, probably smash it too…but, what did he see in that letter that would have set him off? Did he tell you Gibbs? Because I wanna' know. Do you think...it could be about what happened...with his teacher..." She paused, searching Gibbs' eyes to see if he knew something. "It's Tony...I need to know what's going on so I can help."

"He didn't say," Gibbs said curtly, seeing Tony had now knocked back his third shot during Abby's worried ramblings. He gave her a quick squeeze, and whispered in her ear, "I know you'll help him anyway Abs." Then he asked in a more normal voice, "Did you eat?" He was hoping to get her off track just a bit because he didn't want her to notice or worry about the mission he saw Tony was on now, to dull down the pain with some serious alcohol.

"No. I've been watching Aunt Theresa practically go Mrs. Robinson on McGee..." her tone was sour.

They both watched as McGee smiled at Aunt Theresa with genuine pleasure, as she brought him a cup of coffee and several cannolis.

Gibbs chuckled. "Well, I think you should go help yourself, Abby."

That seemed to make her smile. "Maybe I'll...just touch all the food, she'll think I hexed it. I am kind of hungry though. Being a witch takes a lot of energy," and got up with him to go into the dining room.

As Abby started perusing the many platters on the table, Gibbs sidled up to Tony, who had another drink in his hand, but was staring out the window.

"There are better places to do that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a low growl.

Tony smiled before he even turned. He looked at Gibbs, amused.

"You're one to talk, Boss. Bourbon, basement, boat...tools...No one ever nags you about putting an eye out." His voice dripped with subtle irritation, and the words came out a little slowly, though not quite slurred yet. He was getting there.

Just to show Gibbs he was going to do what he wanted, he threw back what was in the glass.

Gibbs took in the quiet defiance, and said nothing, deciding he needed to take another approach.

"Aunt Theresa?" he called, as Tony scowled at him.

She finally broke herself away from McGee's side, and came over to them.

"Ah Antonio! I didn't see you come in before. Did you eat?" Her eyes, so much like his fathers, passed over him with scrutiny. "You didn't. Let me make you a plate," she turned.

"Aunt Theresa," Tony put a hand on her arm, "no. It's okay. I'm fine." He was feeling the effects of the scotch now, and didn't want to stop them with food.

"But-"

"I'm fine," he said, with a little more bite than he meant to express. "Don't worry," he said with sluggish ease.

"Ah...okay...but-" she eyed the glass in his hand, and the scotch on the cart that was 1/3 gone. "You need something in your belly to go with that scotch."

"What, you don't think I can handle it like my dear old Dad?" he asked innocently.

She looked a little confused. "He never-"

"He was a **drunk**!" Tony said a little loudly. "Amongst _other_ things."

"Antonio," she said, tilting her head in a reprimand. "Please…"

Tony stared at her for a moment. And then he sighed.

"Ohhh, Auntie, if you only knew…you wouldn't have loved him that much…"

"Antonio," she said sadly, "you are angry he's gone." She looked up at Tony and put her hand on his cheek.

"Aunt Theresa," he said, with a menacing chuckle, "I'm angry the sonofabitch didn't die sooner."

His Aunt gasped, and recoiled from him, and quickly put her hand over her mouth.

"Okay," Gibbs said. "I think we need to get going to the airport." He cut Tony off, because he knew the younger man had gone too far. He knew Tony would be feeling regret over this moment, and didn't want it to get any worse.

"What time is the flight?" Aunt Theresa asked, in a shaky voice, letting her pained eyes linger on Tony for a moment before looking at Gibbs. She was hoping the scotch was what made Tony say those things, and the loss of his father.

"Twenty-two thirty hours."

"Ohhh, my goodness! You better go. I don't want you to be late. I'll make a bag with food...maybe Antonio can have some in the car..." she glanced at her nephew, who had stopped listening and went back to looking out the window. "I hope I see again sometime, Antonio. You're the only family I have left."

Tony looked at her with sorrow, but said nothing. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep.

Aunt Theresa turned around, and took the plate out of Abby's hands – the one she had just managed to finish assembling, while she eavesdropped on the whole conversation.

"I'll take that," Aunt Theresa said, giving her a dirty look again, "and pack it up for Antonio." As the old woman went into the kitchen, they heard her mutter "Strega..."

Abby looked after her angrily, and then smiled impishly as she quickly took some Italian cookies and put them in her purse.

* * *

><p>In the car, Gibbs sat watching Tony, whose head was leaning back while he fell into a drunken sleep.<p>

Gibbs had to keep a hand on him, to keep him steady leaving his Aunt's house. But he didn't say another word to Gibbs, and barely mumbled his goodbye to his Aunt as she squeezed him breathless, and cried on his shantung tie.

Gibbs wondered if the letter had just been some minor thing, even Senior expressing his love for his son, that struck the right nerve. It would be a logical reaction for Tony even to get upset about that, after hearing from everyone what a saint the man was at the service.

None of the day could have been anything but agonizing.

Gibbs felt a bubble of sadness come up inside him, as he thought about everything Tony had to endure growing up in the house on Long Island. How he must have felt being sent away, rejected by his father after refusing to live up to the man's expectations.

He would never have done that to a child. He would never have done that to Kelly. And he sure as Hell would never have allowed anyone to do to her what Robert Anselmo had done to Tony.

He shook his head. He was worried.

Tony had been in therapy with Rachel Cranston for months.

They both had...but Gibbs had stopped, and Tony was still seeing her. He knew Tony was still occasionally losing sleep from the nightmares...

Tommy Anselmo had caused damage to them both, but...what he'd done to Tony... Gibbs couldn't imagine anyone having the strength to come back from that.

But Tony did. And Gibbs admired him for the courage he possessed.

He knew Tony could get through almost anything after that.

So, why then, did he have the feeling a small animal was gnawing at his gut?

Something about the day's events, and Tony's reaction, had him concerned…if not a little disturbed. The way Tony acted towards his Aunt…

He wished that Tony would have opened up a little, so he'd know what it was that was tripping his silent alarm.

Tony flinched in his sleep, and let out a little moan, as he shifted restlessly across from Gibbs..

Gibbs hoped after everything that had happened, Tony wouldn't go back to keeping secrets.

Especially the type that could swallow him up.


	7. Chapter 7

Gibbs hung up his cell, after the voice mail picked up.

He sighed, "Never be unreachable…why now, Tony?"

He was tempted to drive over to Tony's apartment. He wasn't sure what the right approach was. He was very worried. He'd give Tony thirty minutes and call again. And if he didn't answer, Gibbs was going over there.

Some late morning light was seeping into the basement.

He looked at the dresser he had half way done. He'd come down to sand it, to try and get the image of vacant green eyes out of his mind.

Tony didn't speak to anyone on the flight, other than a yes or no to cocktail peanuts.

And he was also silent on the drive home.

When they pulled up to the house, Tony just walked in without a word, gathering his things, and went to call a cab before Gibbs stopped him.

"What are you doing?" he growled, hearing Tony call the service.

Tony looked at him, sheepishly, "Boss, we're both tired, but…I need to go home."

"I'll take you," Gibbs snapped, "Hang that up."

Tony closed the phone, and gave him a bare bones smile.

"Thanks Boss," he said softly.

Gibbs nodded, and they went back out to the car.

But he didn't start it up right away.

Tony knew what was coming, and seemed to tense up.

"You gonna' tell me what's going on?" Gibbs asked softly, looking at him, seeing the muscles in the profiled jaw clenching.

Tony sighed and suddenly sagged in the seat. He rubbed his eyes.

"No."

Gibbs felt a twist inside. Whatever this was, it had to be bad. He thought for surely when they were back, away from the others, Tony would drop the defenses a bit. They had been through so much together. Gibbs tried not to let his own feelings, or bruised ego, affect his thinking.

"I just wanna' help."

Tony's head fell back on the seat, as he looked up at the roof of the car.

"I know."

"Then, talk."

Tony jerked a little in the seat, turning towards him, "You can't just tell me to talk. Unless that's a new rule I need to know about." The words were biting, and tinged with exhaustion.

Gibbs nodded, and didn't say anything. He turned on the ignition and started the car.

Tony faced forward again, and sighed. He bit his lip for a moment.

As Gibbs drove, he could feel the turmoil emanating from his friend.

"I'm sorry," Tony said in a sad, low voice. "I'm…not taking all this well…was such a jackass to my Aunt today. She didn't deserve that. She doesn't know…"

"Know what?" Gibbs asked calmly, and glanced just once at him.

Tony appeared as if he was going to say something, and then changed his mind. He went with, "She doesn't know how my Dad really was, and what happened with Anselmo."

Gibbs nodded, waiting.

"And…I would never have shot McGee."

Gibbs snorted.

"But you knew that. Funny…McGee might have actually believed me…" Tony was hoping this would move them away from the questioning. "Aunt Theresa loved McGee."

Gibbs sighed.

They were silent until they pulled up to Tony's.

He noticed that the younger man wasn't meeting his eyes, as he hurriedly got out.

"Tony," he called before the door was about to close.

The younger man leaned his head down, looking at Gibbs.

"Yeah Boss?"

"We're off another two days…longer if you need. But I want you to call me…if you need me."

Tony looked a bit surprised the way Gibbs said it, and saw the sincerity in his blue eyes. He knew Gibbs wanted to help. But he wasn't sure anyone could help with this. He just needed to think.

"Thanks," he said softly, with a sincere look of gratitude.

Gibbs nodded, and he closed the door.

* * *

><p>And though he had been beyond drained when he got home, he only slept a few hours. The subtle niggling of worry in his mind wouldn't let him rest. Senior's letter, the destruction of the urn, and the look in Tony's eyes. What did they mean?<p>

He sighed again, getting angry.

He was about to call Tony again, when Tony beat him to it.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said with some relief.

_"Hi Boss,"_ Tony said in a normal enough tone.

"Called you a little while ago-"

_"Yes, yes, I know, never be unreachable,"_ Tony laughed a little, _"but people have to shower sometimes."_

"Uh-huh," Gibbs said, scowling.

There was a pause.

_"Ah, look, Boss…I just need some time. I need to figure this out…before I can…tell you about it. I know you're trying to help…"_

"Tony," he said as gently as he could, "keeping things in…secrets…hasn't worked out very well for you."

He heard the mirthless laugh on the other end of the line.

_"Yeah…well, this…is…"_ he let out a shaky breath. _"I can't. Gibbs, I'm sorry. I need some time off. I'm emailing a request to you and Vance..."_

"How much time?"

Another pause.

_"Three weeks."_

Gibbs felt surprised. "That's quite a bit of time. I'll get someone to cover your desk. You sure you need that long?" He wasn't so concerned about the job right now, as he was about what Tony was going to do.

"_Yeah…I think so. I need to go…home…to get some things settled with the will, and the estate…"_

Gibbs shuddered at the idea of Tony, wandering around the rooms, remembering all the things that had happened when he lived there.

Gibbs sighed. "_Okay. But…I'd like to come with you."_

The pause on the other end was long this time.

"Tony?"

_"I'm here. I just…"_ his voice sounded like it was breaking a little. Gibbs heard the deep intake of breath. _"You're a good friend,"_ his voice had gone thick with emotion, _"better than I deserve. I really appreciate you offering like that, but I need to do this alone."_

_Better than he deserves_? Thought Gibbs. _What's that about_? Weren't they past any of the old insecurities? Or maybe the funeral just sent the younger man back…

"Tony-"

_"Three weeks. And if I need to I'll call. Okay?_" the words were laced with desperation.

Gibbs swallowed back the bad feeling, the twisting pain that was traveling up from the middle of his body.

But he said, "Okay."

_"Thanks Boss,"_ the relief was clear. _"I…I'm gonna' go."_

"Tony."

_"Yeah?"_

"Keep your phone on."

_"You got it,Boss,_" he said, and hung up.

Gibbs threw the phone down on the work table.

He frowned, and let his eyes run aimlessly over the tools on the wall.

"Three weeks, my ass," he grunted to himself. There was no way he was going to step back that long, with his gut screaming bloody murder at him.

Tony was just going to have to deal with Gibbs checking up on him.

* * *

><p>He closed the phone, and put it down on his coffee table with a shaking hand.<p>

He was relieved that Gibbs agreed to the time off.

He hoped three weeks would be enough to help him work it all out. To understand how Senior could…keep it from him.

Tony felt his breath hitch a little, as his hands clenched at his sides. He leaned back on his leather couch.

"Why…"he whispered to thin air. "Why would you do it? Makes no sense…"

He felt himself tearing up.

"No," he said out loud, suddenly scrubbing at his face. "No. Keep it together. Just move."

He forced himself up.

There was a lot to do. He needed to pack, and gather some things for the ride to Long Island. He needed to call Mr. Gardiner, and have some money transferred to himself from the offshore accounts.

"But that can wait," he said aloud, "until after."

He knew Gibbs thought he was coming back in three weeks. And…maybe he was. _Wasn't he?_

He tried to imagine walking off the elevator, like he'd done thousands of times, of walking into the bullpen, and sitting at his desk. His desk.

He gasped, and tried to push down the choking sob working it's way out of his throat.

Gibbs…the team…his team…they all meant so much to him…

But now he had trouble picturing himself feeling the same there…just like he had felt suffocated and confused around them all after reading the letter…

"You fucking bastard," he moaned, wishing Senior was still alive so he could scream at him. "Come on, Tony!" he groaned, trying to get himself to suck it up.

He needed to pull himself together already, since there was at least one thing he was sure of.

He was going home, to the sad joke, the grand comedy that had been growing up Anthony DiNozzo Junior.

He was going to face his awful childhood, walk through every room, touch the memories with his very fingertips, hoping that he could come away with something.

Hoping that he could come away…intact.

And on the way out of DC he was going to buy several containers to fill with gasoline.

So that after, he could set the demons and ghosts ablaze, and watch the whole lie burn down to the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Gibbs came down the steps from Vance's office.

_Well_, he thought, _that went better than I expected._

Vance had nearly had a stroke when he was told both Gibbs and Tony would be out for three weeks.

He saw that telltale vein in Vance's head stand out, as he came to the conclusion Gibbs would not back down. Vance had already approved Tony's leave, but was surprised about the additional request from the team leader.

The Director softened just a bit though, when Gibbs pointed out that they all rarely took any time off at all, and worked weekends whenever necessary. It would just mean a few weeks of a different rotation schedule...

They'd get over it.

McGee and the two covering agents sitting at Ziva and Tony's desks looked up as he got to his desk to gather up his things.

"Uh, Boss? We got a case?" McGee was the only one who dared speak to him, based on the look of intensity on his face.

"No," Gibbs said, closing his drawer and putting his badge in his pocket.

"Uh…-" McGee was going to ask another question, but Gibbs stopped him.

"McGee, you and both Agents Cullen and Gemata are temporarily being reassigned to the other teams."

McGee's eyes widened.

Gibbs leveled his glance at the younger man.

"It's_ temporary_, McGee," he said in a more gentle tone. "Tony has taken three weeks off, to wrap up some loose ends with his father's estate."

"Three weeks?"

"Yes."

McGee looked around for a moment, and looked back at Gibbs again, even more worried.

"Do you think…that's a good idea? I-I mean…he…" McGee was fumbling for the words, but Gibbs knew what he was trying to say.

"Yeah, McGee. I know. I'm taking some time off myself."

"Oh," McGee said, understanding, and relieved that Gibbs was going to make sure Tony was okay. He was almost a little envious Tony would get that kind of attention from Gibbs. But also he knew how badly Seniors death, and that letter, had affected his friend. _Still…three weeks…_

He sighed.

"So- you're going to hang out with Tony…for a whole three weeks? I mean…won't you kill each other just after two days?" he asked, almost wondering it out loud. "Uh…I mean-"

"Not exactly, McGee. Tony doesn't know I'll be around right away." Gibbs turned to leave. Then he added, "I'll be in touch McGee. Make sure you're still reachable."

The other two agents looked at McGee, clearly shocked at the turn of events.

He shrugged a little, smiling at them, having nothing to say.

* * *

><p>The ride to New York was relaxing. Except for the three missed calls from Abby he let go to voicemail.<p>

He didn't want to talk to anyone.

He just wanted to drive, to focus on the road, and let his mind be empty.

He was exhausted from all the thinking, and the nightmares, which had terrorized him twice the night before.

Tony sighed.

He knew he should probably not have canceled all his appointments with Rachel Cranston for the month, but he didn't see the point. He wasn't sure if he was going back. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it with her. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with the whole three weeks.

But he needed…something.

For now, going home was the one thing he felt he had to do.

It was a long day of driving.

By the time he pulled up to the gate on Dunemere Lane, in South Hampton, it was already 18:30.

The property his father's substantial house sat on was a twelve acres lot, and surrounded on all sides by a simple wrought iron fence. The front gate, flanked by two bricked pedestals, lions atop them, was kept closed for the most part.

On one of the pedestals, was attached an ornate iron mailbox, with the number 43 on it.

He got out of the car and reached into the mailbox to extract the keys to the house. Mr. Gardiner had them placed there for Tony earlier in the day, after he called to let the lawyer know he was coming. He made no mention of the money yet…since he was still unsure of his next move.

He stood, looking at the gate for a moment, and the long driveway that stretched to the imposing house at the end of it.

A flutter of anxiety passed through him.

He let out a shaky breath.

Tony opened the gate, and got back into the car.

He parked in front, on the circular drive before the front doors of the house.

As he turned off the ignition and got out, he looked up at the grey and white façade, the multiple levels and several chimneys that reached up into the evening sky.

The property itself was still much the same.

Pine trees mostly, with some other deciduous species littered in between.

He could almost see himself running through them, with Tommy laughing at his heels as they raced for one particular tree.

He closed his eyes, and shuddered.

When he forced them open again, he got himself moving, taking his bag from the car and carrying it to the front doors.

The jangling of the keys seemed loud against the quiet of the place.

As he entered and turned on the lights, the familiar smell hit him.

Pine, old paper, and dust.

All of the stately antique furnishings were in exactly the same spots he remembered. Senior had traveled so much, he hardly had time to redecorate or move things.

Tony slowly walked past the large family room, taking in the fireplace and sofas that were still the same.

He passed the large twisting stairway, with its polished, luxurious balustrade.

After the stairway, further down the hall, was his father's study.

Where the piano had been.

His breath now shallow, heart pounding more heavily in his chest, he opened the door, and turned on the light.

It was all the same. All dark wood. Except, there was a large club chair, where the piano had been…

But next to it was the old floor lamp. It had once lit the sheet music he read from, while Robert Anselmo stood, looking over his shoulder…so close…

He walked into the room, on trembling legs, and almost stumbled.

He felt dizzy, and sat down in the club chair, the only item in the room that wasn't a witness to his shame and torment.

Trying to force himself to calm, he looked around the room some more, at the walls lined with books, the grand mahogany desk, and the rolling cart on which rested crystal decanters, glasses, and bottles of assorted alcohol.

His eyes started to blur, as he looked down at the floor.

There was a burl in one of the old floorboards, next to the base of the lamp.

He laughed, but then choked, remembering how he tried to just stare at it sometimes, while Anselmo punished him with the ruler, or leaned him over the closed piano, to put his hands under his clothes…

He groaned and covered his face.

Isn't this why he came home? To really look at it all? And to remember?

Years. Anselmo abused him for years. And Senior had let it happen.

It shouldn't have been that way.

"You…_bastard_," he whispered in agony. "You didn't have to do it. You could have let me be…"his body clenched, with the pain twisting him up, the anger and the helplessness all coming back to him in a rush.

Suddenly he couldn't breathe, and jumped out of the chair, grasping the doorframe for just a moment as he blindly ran from the room.

He landed against the wall in the hallway, and slid down, feeling lost in the expanse of the hellish place.

"God," he blurted out, gasping and starting to sob, "what am I gonna' do?"

* * *

><p>Gibbs arrived at Tony's apartment in the late afternoon.<p>

His gut was talking again…screaming at him that something was terribly wrong, and that Tony was in trouble.

Quickly seeing his car was gone, he called McGee.

"_Yeah Boss?"_

"I need you to track Tony for me."

"_Uh…okay. I'm going to my desk right now…" _

He heard McGee punching the keys.

"_Boss, Abby's been trying to call Tony…"_

"Uh-huh."

"_Well, I uh…may have mentioned to her you both took three weeks off…"_

Gibbs smiled, knowing Abby would try to hunt him down next after not reaching Tony. He was in for it with her...he'd probably need to buy Abby her very own Caf-Pow machine to keep in the lab to make up for taking off like this.

"Yeah, McGee, and?"

"_I …just... wanted to warn you-"_

"McGee, sometime today."

"_Ah, okay, Boss. He's…in New York. On the Southern State Parkway."_

"And what's Senior's address out there ?"

"_One second…"_

Gibbs heard more keys clicking.

"_Forty-three Dunemere, South Hampton."_

"Thanks McGee."

"_Boss-"_

He hung up before McGee could finish, now intent on getting to New York as quickly as he could.


	9. Chapter 9

Tony wandered through the immense house, first through the entire ground floor, then up the stairs, and to the first bedroom on the right. The master bedroom, where his father had an immense four-poster bed, and other, assorted carved wood pieces of furniture.

Tony walked to the closet, and opened the door.

He turned on the light inside, and smiled a little at the fact that Senior was even more of a clotheshorse than he. It was a large walk-in, with a valet and chair.

There were two walls lined with suits.

He ran his hands over the sleeves of several of them, remembering the first time Senior showed him how to tie his necktie. He must have been five or so.

All the shoes and belts sat, waiting, as if he were coming back.

Tony sighed.

He went to turn off the light, but something caught his eye.

On one of the upper shelves, was a photo album, the edges yellowed and worn.

He carefully took it down, and then switched off the light, closing the door behind him as he went and sat on Senior's bed with it.

He opened it, and was very surprised to see old pictures of his mother.

After her death, Senior took down every picture and got rid of her every stitch of clothing. Tony hadn't understood it at the time, but he knew now it was because he couldn't bear to look at her image, or be reminded of the loss.

As he flipped a page, he saw images of the two of them, happy, smiling. In love.

He wondered how Senior had been before him. He didn't look drunk in the pictures. He turned a few more pages, seeing the two in different places, laughing, joyful.

"So why the hell did you do it?" Tony said to himself.

He knew it was mostly Senior's negligence that left him prey to a violent pedophile. Flashes of fingers on his skin, and the sound of metal chains echoing in his mind almost made him fell instantly sick. He had to push the memories, both old and new, back down again.

But weren't they both responsible for what happened to him? She had been as ignorant as Senior about Anselmo, though the abuse was mild when she was alive. It was after she was gone, that the insanity seemed to overwhelm him…but would she ever have left him alone for days on end with the man?

He liked to think that at least she, not being drunk all the time like Senior, might have noticed…something.

He wished it had all been different.

"If wishes were horses…" he murmured, remembering his mother used to say it often when he wanted something he couldn't have.

He let his fingers play on one of the close-ups, tracing the curve of her face. He remembered her, the warmth and comfort of her embrace. The way her eyes lit up when he played the piano for her.

The pain blossomed again in his chest, like a knife, stabbing and twisting.

He shivered, and shut the album. He could look at more of it later.

Holding it under one arm, he took one more look at the room, and shut off the light.

He made his way past five guest rooms, all decorated simply with antiques, to the sixth.

His room. But looking in, any trace of Tony's childhood was long gone.

That room, of course, had been turned into a guest bedroom the moment he was sent off to the Academy.

His eyes welled up again, with tears, but more because of the rage, than sorrow.

His mouth worked into a grimace, as he turned around and walked back to the stairs.

At the top, he found he couldn't see very well, crying, and sat angrily at the top.

He remembered sitting in the same exact spot, overhearing Senior talking to Anselmo after Tony quit playing.

(Flashback)

"_I dunno' why," Senior growled, "he's not playing anymore, so, I'm sorry Bobby, that's it."_

"_But…"Anselmo was struggling, "I…we've invested so much time into him…molding him and grooming him to be the best…"_

"_You think I don't know that? You know how much I've paid you over the years? And this is no reflection on you, Bobby. This is Anthony, being the selfish brat that he is."_

_From the top of the stairs, Tony clenched his hands in fury. Tears streamed down his face, as he listened to them talk about him. He knew Senior didn't believe him about Bobby, but he still felt betrayed, and completely alone._

"_Maybe…I should talk to him…"Anselmo said, seeming to be so helpful._

_Tony's stomach clenched._

_He couldn't face Anselmo now, after he told his father he quit. He was afraid the man would somehow talk him out of it, or threaten him to submit…_

"_No," Senior said disgustedly, "he's off to Military School in the morning. It's over. I know my son, Bobby, and he's not going to play anymore. At least not now. Let's see how six months of discipline does for him. And then we'll talk."_

_He was shaking. "You don't know…you don't know anything," his whispered through gritted teeth._

_Anselmo was quiet, seeming to think._

_But Senior was stubborn, and drunk. And once he made up his mind about something, there was no changing it._

_Senior seemed to take the silence as opportunity to end the discussion._

"_Thank you for everything Bobby, and I'm sorry about this. I know you were just trying to make something better out of him, give him the opportunity to really be somebody."_

"_He is somebody already," Anselmo said softly, "even without the music, Tony, your son is very special."_

(End Flashback)

A violent shudder ran through him, as he choked again, gasping.

The damned pedophile had defended his worth to Senior.

He suddenly let out a laugh. By rights, he should be in an institution, because, how screwed up was that?

Bobby called him special…

More than a few times, when he had him in the hotel rooms, using him to live out every sick fantasy...

"Goddamn you," he hissed through the tears. "I hope you're both in Hell."

The fury was overtaking him.

Parents were supposed to love you. Protect you. Make you feel safe.

Home was supposed to feel safe.

But this place…was a Pandora's Box.

Every memory was laced with the lie. The lie everyone else bought into, that Tony was privileged and had it all, and was an ungrateful brat.

But the truth, was a bottomless pit of hurt and shame, and abandonment.

He was starting to see…from the very beginning, he was really nothing. Just a tool, for everyone else's needs…

"Fuckyou," he groaned, furiously wiping his face off and pulling himself up.

"I'm gonna' make you nothing now too," he whispered, walking down the stairs, to the foyer, where he placed the old album in his bag.

He turned and went to the study, ignoring the floor lamp, and the burl in the floor. He picked up a decanter from the bar cart, and opened it. He gulped down several swallows of it, recognizing the taste of bourbon.

He lowered it for a moment, thinking of Gibbs…

Maybe…he should call Gibbs…

But now? How could he stand Gibbs looking at him…knowing the truth…

Suddenly, he threw the decanter against the floor, watching it shatter into pieces with the rest of the liquid shooting out onto the wood.

Senior had ruined everything. Ruined his life. But maybe it hadn't been worth a damn to begin with.

He stared out into the night, through the window of the study. He thought he could wait a little while…but it seemed stupid to hold back, when he knew what had to happen.

He picked up another decanter, one third full, and pulled it open, drinking down several gulps of burning liquid. Vodka.

He stopped to take a breath, feeling the waves of heat scorching his belly.

He smiled, and drank the rest down, throwing it after and shattering it next to the first one.

"Time for the gloves…" he was already starting to slur,"…to come on. Or is it off?"

* * *

><p>He wore the crime scene gloves and a disposable cover-all to douse the entire exterior of the house with gasoline.<p>

He was very careful…and thorough.

When he was done, he removed the gloves and coverall, quickly putting them in a plastic bag, and the empty cans in the trunk, with the rest of the refuse.

He carefully got his bag out of the house, and shut all the lights off, locking the front door behind him.

Stumbling a little in his drunken state, he got into his car.

"Gibbsss'd kill me," he chuckled to himself darkly.

He moved the car slowly, and carefully, out of the driveway, and down the street, under the shadow of trees, and parked it.

Walking a bit off-kilter, he hopped over a low part of the fence, catching his tee shirt and hearing it rip on the iron.

"Oh," he said, stopping momentarily to feel the hole in it. "Ilikeddisone…shit." And then laughed.

He walked over the grass and through the trees, in the dark.

As he came up to the quiet house, he gave it one more look.

He pulled out the matchbook, and lit one, his eyes wandering up to the chimneys that were black against the moonlight.

He wanted to say something…it seemed fitting to say something important…but what?

It should never have been like this.

It was all pain.

Why couldn't he have just had a normal life with parents that loved him, taught him to feel like somebody…

"If wishes were horses…" he uttered sadly, for the second time that night.

He threw the match in the wake of the gasoline and it lit in a vibrating whoosh sound as he backed away. The heat was immediate and intense, as some of the bushes started to crackle.

He saw, with satisfaction, that the whole perimeter was alight within fifteen seconds. The light of the growing inferno danced on his skin and clothes.

Calmly, he turned and staggered away.

He made his way through the trees, back to his car.

He pulled out a bottle of bourbon he had brought with him, and hopped up on the hood, lying on it, upper body back against the windshield.

He'd picked a great spot to watch it burn down. Hopefully, to the damned ground. He had one arm lazily bent behind his head, as if he were lounging on a beach chair.

He raised the bottle toward the burning estate, in salute, and took another drink.

* * *

><p>Gibbs was on edge as he drove down Dunemere towards Senior's house.<p>

His mind had been on what he was going to say to Tony, when he showed up at the door.

He knew Tony might be angry, but he hoped the younger man would be relieved at his presence.

"And if you're not, well, too bad," Gibbs mumbled to himself.

As he got nearer to the house, he saw the blaze, "What the Hell?"

He was about to panic, but then out of the corner of his eye, he passed the red mustang, and someone…lying on top of it?

"Ah, jeezus," he growled, knowing what had happened.

He pulled up in front of the car, and parked.

He could hear sirens in the distance…but from the looks of it, the place was a giant inferno.

He got out of the car, and slammed the door angrily.

Walking over to the car in the shadows, he saw the younger man was clutching a bottle to his chest.

"DiNozzo!" he grunted, wanting to strangle him for being so wreckless, and at the same time, frightened to death of what Tony had done.

"Heyyyyboss…" he was slurring, and Gibbs could smell the alcohol as he got near.

Gibbs sighed, "What the _HELL_ did you do?"

Tony shrugged, looking at Gibbs with bloodshot eyes.

"Taking carobuisnuss, Boss." Tony then sat up, bringing his legs lazily over the side of the hood. "Wanna drink?" he offered the bottle of scotch to Gibbs.

Gibbs took it, and threw it into the bushes.

"Heyyyy," Tony said. "S'not …veryyy…nice of you Boss." Tony scowled at him.

"Tony," Gibbs breathed. "That was your property now, you just burned down."

"Sssooo?" Tony said, a little angrily. "Whaddyou care? S'not like I giveashit about ins…insurance…onnit."

Gibbs realized talking to him in this state was purposeless.

"Keys," Gibbs said, holding his hand out.

Tony snorted in disgust, and then reached a fumbling hand into his own pocket.

He handed them to Gibbs.

"I hope to God you didn't make this easy to trace to you."

"Ofcourse…they're gonna…trace t'mee. But…not nuf to hhave…real proof…"

Gibbs let out a shaky breath.

"Boss…" Tony said softly.

He was starting to sway a bit, and Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah," he replied, seeing Tony's eyes turn glittery with tears.

"M'sorry…"

"DiNozzo-"

"Hadt'a…I …it hadt'a…happen…had to make it right…"

"What, Tony," he asked gently. "What had to happen?"

"Hadt'a…eraseit…"

Gibbs nodded, understanding a little.

"Boss…I…don'feelsogood…" he said, pitching forward, into his friend.

Gibbs caught him, with a grunt, "Tony?" He wrapped one arm around his shoulders and tapped the younger man's cheek, only getting a soft whimper in response.

"Great," Gibbs said, knowing he needed to get Tony to a hotel to sleep it off. "You and I are gonna' have a talk tomorrow," he said.

Looking at the pale face with worry, he was grateful at least Tony hadn't killed himself accidentally setting the house ablaze.

He quickly leaned down, and got Tony over one shoulder, into a fireman's carry.

Ironic, since he finally heard the sound of firetrucks nearing the house. Thankfully, they were coming from the other end of Dunemere. He knew that it was too late- the house was done for, and they wouldn't send anyone in. They would just try to put the fire out before it spread to the trees.

He opened the door of his car and threw Tony down into the passenger side, buckling him in and hearing a small moan.

The drinking…was extreme, but he could see it…

But this behavior… _arson_? This wasn't Tony at all. And it scared him.

Something had driven him to this.

"Just what the Hell is it?" Gibbs murmured, staring at his unconscious friend before starting the ignition..


	10. Chapter 10

He groaned.

The vertigo that had him stumbling in the dark to the bathroom during the night was still teasing at his brain.

Someone had helped him…Gibbs.

And he had basically, puked his guts up. Violently. And totally.

He stayed on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, eyes closed, as he felt the washcloth pass over his face and neck.

"Boss," he had moaned, in misery, stomach twisting in an excruciating knot and skin feeling way too hot.

"I need to get some water in you, DiNozzo," the tone was gentle but somewhat sour. "Guess it's been a while, since you tried to kill yourself with alcohol poisoning."

"Y-you…shouldn't…talk…you prob…probably own stock in a bourbon…manufacturer…" he moaned pitifully again and tried to roll on his side.

"Come on," he heard Gibbs say quietly, as the calloused warm hands helped him sit up a little against the sink of the bathroom.

He still couldn't open his eyes.

"Sip a little…"

Tony felt the paper cup at his lips, and did his best.

It took an hour, and several attempts.

He remembered the hand on his back, soothing circles into it as he tried and failed, throwing up the water before eventually keeping some down.

Then he didn't remember anything else.

Gibbs must have dragged him back to the bed.

He cracked an eye open, thankful that the curtains were drawn, because he could tell by the sliver of light that it was day.

"Boss?" he rasped out. But there was only silence.

He was in a hotel room.

He was on a full sized bed, and across from it was another. It had been slept in.

Where was Gibbs?

His head pounded.

"Ohhhhhhh…." He let out almost mournfully, needing to close his eyes against the pain.

When he opened them once more, he saw the aspirin and cup of water on the table.

He moved slowly to take them.

Once he did he was exhausted, closing his eyes once more.

Remembering vague snippets of Gibbs finding him on the car, he murmured, "How screwed am I…"and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

><p>The next thing he knew, was rolling over, and feeling like his mouth was made of asphalt.<p>

He blinked his eyes open, smelling something good. Pizza.

Suddenly, his stomach chimed in, letting him know that food, was not currently an option.

He felt the bed dip down next to him.

"Hey," he heard the angry voice snap at him, "you know what **this** is?"

He opened his eyes, looking at what Gibbs had in front of his face.

"Um…" he said looking at the hand, holding a piece of light grey fabric in it. It was little and shredded, and from the smaller fibers, looked like jersey.

"This," Gibbs growled, "is what you left on the fence when you were not so stealthily committing _**arson**_ last night."

Tony swallowed nervously, remembering something about his tee shirt getting caught on the wrought iron fence.

"This, along with what you had in your damned car, could have been the end of your career, not to mention it's a **damned felony**!"

"M-my car?" Tony asked, confused.

Gibbs sighed, putting down the fabric fibers.

He got up off the edge of the bed and took off his coat, talking as he moved around the room.

"I got a cab, to take me over, after the fire was out and the excitement died down. And by the way, your cell rang a few times- I'm pretty sure it's your father's lawyer, trying to reach you about the house. I brought the car back, but stopped first along Main Street and threw out all the garbage in a dumpster behind a bakery…"

"Boss, I-"

"**What**?" Gibbs yelled suddenly, "You're actually gonna' **say anything right now**? _**Now**_? After I find you almost dead drunk on top of your car? After you _**burned the fucking house down**_?"

Tony saw Gibbs had become white, and was so furious his hands were shaking.

"Of all the **irresponsible**-"

"Stupid," Tony said, quietly.

"**Stupid**-"

"Selfish," he added, still not looking at Gibbs.

Tony licked his lips, and looked down, letting out a shaky sigh.

He waited for more, but it didn't come.

He warily looked up at Gibbs, who had two hands to his face, trying to breathe and calm down.

He lowered the hands, looking Tony right in the eye, "You could have been _killed_." The words sounded rough and strangled.

Tony saw the worry. And felt bad about it.

But, Gibbs just didn't know. He shouldn't be so concerned about him…

Tony looked down again, and then to the side. He remained silent, feeling a kind of cold settle into his body, head pounding.

Gibbs took another deep breath to calm himself.

He looked at the nightstand.

"You took the aspirin. Good." He was still angry, but not as hot. He went to the small circular table in front of the window, where a pizza box rested.

"Wanna' try to eat?"

Tony shook his head no, still not speaking. He sat up for a moment and rubbed his eyes and face.

Gibbs sat in the chair, watching the younger man.

He knew the anger had affected him, but he wasn't seeing Tony throw any back, and that alone was upsetting.

"Tony," he said in a much more gentled tone, "You have to talk to me."

Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed, back now to Gibbs.

"No…I don't," he said softly, as he got up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He leaned against it for a while, closing his eyes.

Gibbs didn't deserve this. He shouldn't have come. Even though, Tony knew, Gibbs had saved his ass. Big time.

He shouldn't have.

A he could have gotten into a lot of trouble helping him.

And he didn't deserve it.

Why couldn't Gibbs see it?

* * *

><p>Gibbs stared at the door and sighed.<p>

It was silent for a while, and then he heard the shower running.

He took some pizza for himself, and ate while he continued thinking about everything he had seen…and heard last night.

It was almost 16:45.

Tony was in no shape to go anywhere yet. And Gibbs had just under three weeks time as well. He could wait Tony out, if that's what it took…

Eventually, Tony came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. He went to his bag, the one Gibbs had brought in from his car, and fished out some sweatpants and a tee shirt.

After he got on the clean clothes, he sighed, walking over to the little round table, and taking a seat across from Gibbs.

He was hungry, but not sure yet he should eat.

As if reading his mind, Gibbs reached into the pocket of the coat draped over the back of his chair, producing a small bottle of liquid antacid.

He handed it to Tony, with no expression on his face.

Tony took it, smiling a little, still not sure how Gibbs did that.

"Thanks," he said, and took a large swig of it.

They sat in silence for a bit.

As usual, Gibbs had no problem, sitting, silently, eyes on Tony.

Suddenly, he felt like he was in interrogation, not sitting in a hotel room, with pizza.

He took a deep breath through his nose and looked around, eyes drifting back to Gibbs'.

"Okay, so…I freaked out a little."

Gibbs brows almost shot off his head.

"A little, Tony?"

He rolled his head a bit, looking around, to release tension, and put his hands in his lap, willing them to be still.

"Boss…"his eyes drifted back to Gibbs' face. "I ah…I…"

"You need to tell me, exactly what this is, Tony," Gibbs said in the most quiet, and sincere tone. "This isn't you."

"No…I guess it's not." Tony looked around the room again. "You're right about that."

"So…tell me, or – Hell, tell someone," Gibbs was almost pleading with him, "but you can't keep going this way."

Tony's mouth twisted a little.

"I…appreciate what you did for me here Boss…"

Gibbs scowled, "But?"

"But…" Tony looked down at the table, brow furrowing. "I…" his eyes suddenly stung, and his vision misted. "I need…time…I can't…"

Another sigh from Gibbs.

Disappointment.

Tony knew Gibbs was worried and now…probably upset he wouldn't confide in him…but it wasn't the first time he'd been a disappointment was it?

"Okay," Gibbs said plainly.

He looked up.

"Okay?"

"For now."

Tony stared at Gibbs.

He realized at that moment, Gibbs was not going to let it go. He was going to wait, with the patience of a master hunter, for the right moment, and then strike.

He was going to stick with Tony, until he cracked, or he got the information some other way.

"You ready to try some food now?" Gibbs asked, grabbing a newspaper from the dresser near his chair.

"Definitely," Tony said, taking a slice and shoving it in his mouth.

If he was eating, he couldn't talk.

* * *

><p>When Gibbs awoke the next morning, at 05:45 as he usually did, he knew right away something was wrong.<p>

He sat up quickly.

He growled in frustration, seeing the empty bed, and Tony's bag gone.

"Dammit."


	11. Chapter 11

_"But…Mr. DiNozzo, in order for the insurance company to process a claim, we'll need your signature, and the local police have started to investigate this…as an arson…"_

"Yes, Mr. Gardiner, but- as you can see, no one was harmed in the fire, and…I don't care about the insurance money."

The man was choking and sputtering on the other end of the phone.

"If I might retain your services, to handle this for me."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

The man seemed to regain his composure.

_"Well, of course you can retain my services…you do realize your father paid me in advance to handle wrapping up all these affairs…"_

"Well," Tony smiled a little, "I would also like you to do whatever is necessary with the local police as well, let them know the owner of the property, who is a federal agent, is unavailable for at least three weeks… I would like that property sold, as soon as possible…as soon as the authorities release it from investigation. It's still worth plenty even with the debris on it. I'm sure someone will buy it as is and clean it up. Or, if we have to clean it up, just hire whomever you need and get it done, and I'll pay for it."

_"Ah, of course…_" the man seemed to think for a moment. _"If I tell them also you aren't putting in a claim, and that you simply don't care about the property, that will perplex them but make it less appealing to convince a judge you had a real motive…to…"_

"Mr. Gardiner!" he made himself sound shocked. " Are you saying you think I burned down my father's house?"

_"Well, no…"_

"Why would I do such a thing?"

_"I don't-"_

"Just get it done."

_"Yes sir, Mr. DiNozzo."_

"And you'll take care of the money transfer, correct?"

_"Yes, but are you sure you want that sum-"_

"Yes. Do it."

_"Yes sir."_

Tony ended the call, and then listened to his messages as he sat parked in a rest stop outside Las Vegas.

He knew Gibbs would be on his tail eventually, but it would take a while. He'd deal with it later.

After this call though, his phone was going to be off again...

He'd gotten eleven messages from Abby, ranging from concerned to fuming, two growling reprimands from Gibbs, three worried from McGee, and one from Ziva sending her condolences from Israel.

He sighed. He didn't want to talk to any of them. And he felt badly about that.

From out of his glove compartment he withdrew an aged, small leather booklet.

He perused it for a few moments, smiling as he found the number he was looking for.

He dialed.

After a moment, a sultry female voice answered on the other end.

_"Hello?_"

"Sharlee," he said, hoping it was still the right number.

_"Well, well, well, this just can't be who I think it is,"_ the southern accented voice purred.

"Yep. It's me, Tony D., Shar," he said happily.

_"Well, I never thought I'd hear from you again! I'm just a little taken by surprise!"_ She laughed, her rich, hearty gutteral laugh, just as he remembered it, maybe a little rougher now.

"Well…I'm gonna' surprise you even more. I'm heading to Vegas. Right now. And I was wondering…"

_"Well, sugar, you come right here to Ms. Sharlee, and I will wrap my arms around you and you won't think about anythin' else for days."_

"That sounds wonderful," he said, "and…I'll be very glad to see you."

_"And?"_

"And what?"

_"You seem to forget that you and I got to know each other quite well back in Philadelphia. I know the "and" means you need to say something else, other than you're gonna' be glad to see me."_

He chuckled. "You can still read between the lines, sexkitten," he said softly. "Are you still in the business?"

_"Hell yes. But now, I've got girls working for me, on and off the ranch out here. Hell I've even got a few boys too. I don't do it myself. Too damned old for that part of the business now. Tits are busy lookin' at somethin' on the floor now…"_ she laughed again, at herself. Tony had enjoyed that about her when he knew her as one of the locals walking the streets of Philly. _"You looking for some strange, Dee?"_

"Maybe."

After a moment of silence, she said, _"Well, get'chur ass on over here. We're outside Vegas. 314 Saxon Avenue. The town is called, Paradise."_

"Ha, of course it is," he said, "I should be there in about an hour."

_"I can't wait to see you, Dee, it's been way too long."_

"Same here," he said, and hung up.

As he started up the Mustang again, and pulled out of the rest stop, he thought back on Ms. Sharlee.

They'd become friends while he was working in her "territory", trying to catch a serial killer targeting prostitutes.

Her easy, accepting manner and shrewd mind made her good company on days he was stuck out on the streets trying to get information for the case. It also didn't hurt that she was a way hotter version of Ertha Kitt. He remembered her skin…like beautiful milk chocolate.

But he'd been too much of a good cop to take her up on the "freebies" she offered several times.

For him, it was a valuable friendship. She always seemed to have a different way of thinking about things.

Then he didn't see her for a few days…and got worried. He asked one of the other girls about where she was. He was horrified when they told him one of her John's had gotten rough and beat on her pretty good. They were all surprised, being she was usually so sharp.

Tony got her address, and actually went to her home to check on her. It was one of the falling down buildings in the questionable neighborhood next to the one she worked.

When he knocked, the door opened only a crack, with the chain on.

An eye looked at him from about half way down the door.

"Jacob, who's at the door?" Tony heard her calling out.

"Some white guy. He looks like a cop." The child's voice answered suspiciously.

"Get away from the door," she hissed, and then peeked herself. "Dee?"

"Yeah…it's me."

She quickly closed the door to take the chain off, and opened it.

He immediately took in her swollen jaw, and the cut above her left eyebrow, over the beautiful dark eye.

"I…ah…I got worried…" he said, suddenly uncertain he should have come.

She had the strangest look in her eyes.

"You came to check on me, sugar?"

Tony nodded.

"Well," she smiled. "I'll be damned." The words were soft, and held some emotion in them he couldn't place. But it wasn't bad…

"You come in, Dee, and at least I can feed you some dinner. You're way to skinny, and ain't no way any thug is gonna' be scared of you like that." She pulled him by the arm into her little apartment, taking in the meager furnishings and children's toys lying about.

The little boy, Jacob, eyed him from the couch, while a little girl, maybe a few years younger stomped into the room, skipping with a doll.

The little girl stopped, wide eyed, when she saw Tony, and ran behind the couch timidly, watching. She was beautiful like her mother, but her face was round and sweet like a cherub's.

Sharlee sighed, and chuckled, leaning back to look at Tony. She had on some leggings and a tank top, and he covertly took in some of the bruises she had.

"They're just shy," she said. Turning to them, she announced, 'Celia, Jacob, this is my friend Dee. Be nice to him. He's a good friend of your mama's." She directed him to her kitchen, as she continued, "Jacob is eight, and Celia is five. They're pretty funny. You'll see in a while, once they warm up to ya'."

Sharlee shared the dinner she had made for them with Tony, some kind of chicken and rice dish that he thought was excellent. She'd learned the recipe from her mother, growing up in Georgia.

He discovered that Sharlee was a single mom, raising the two children on her own, with little assistance from anyone, no family to speak for, and no education with which to gain employment that would keep them all fed.

The apartment was clean. The children were clean. They were also well mannered, and sweet, warming up to him almost instantly.

Tony had known, that prostitutes were people with lives, families, feelings…

Even though he had arrested a few himself, he never treated them badly or disrespectfully, because of what they did.

But now he had a personal connection to this family, and he found his heart aching for them a little…worried the children would lose their mother to the kind of sick bastard they were trying to find.

Tony waited a week, before showing up at Sharlee's again, to give her an envelope containing enough cash to get them out of Philly and somewhere else, where maybe she would be safer. It was most of his savings. But...he didn't have a family, or anyone to take care of.

When she opened it, her hand went to her mouth, and she looked up at him, eyes tearing up.

She of course refused it twice, before he convinced her to keep it, but with the condition she left Philly and found a better place to raise her family.

And she did.

She called him almost a year later, from a legal establishment outside Vegas, and gave him her numbers.

She thanked him, and told him how the kids were doing well, in a good school, and they were all living in a good neighborhood, in a little house she rented. And they'd even gotten a dog.

That was a long time ago.

BG.

Before Gibbs.

Tony smiled sadly to himself, as the thoughts brought him back to the here and now.


	12. Chapter 12

Tony had been gone for two days, but there was no traceable sign of where the SFA had gone yet. He had sneaked away with his cell turned off.

Gibbs figured that since he was on long Island anyway, he may as well pay Tony's lawyer a visit.

He had waited patiently, for the two days, for Gardiner to come back from a business trip. Over that time, he also checked in with McGee frequently, to see if anyone had heard from Tony or if there had been any signal on him. It was difficult for McGee, being busy working with another team, but he got back to Gibbs quickly enough when he needed him to.

It was 11:30 hours, and Mr. Gardiner had just arrived at his office in Selden, a coffee in hand, when Gibbs took it from him.

"Excuse me!" Mr. Gardiner said, a bit thrown off an annoyed. "What are you doing?"

Gibbs took a sip and scowled, dumping it out in the bushes near the front door of the Victorian house Gardiner had his office in.

"Saving you from making a terrible mistake. That coffee was really bad."

"Who-"

"Special Agent Gibbs," he took out his badge and showed it to Gardiner.

"Wait," Gardiner said, still annoyed, but thinking. "Didn't I see you at Mr. DiNozzo Senior's service?"

"Yes. But i didn't say hello because I hate lawyers."

"What are you…doing here?" the man asked nervously. "You're young Anthony's Boss correct?"

"Yes. Can we talk inside, Mr. Gardiner?"

"Ah, sure we can," the man pushed his glassed up higher on his nose and opened the door.

They entered a warm foyer, with a long hall tree, covered in brochures and business cards from the other professionals who had suites in the building.

"My suite is right here," the tall, thin man pulled out a key and opened his office door.

Gibbs followed him in, passing by a desk that was obviously for the secretary who wasn't there. They went around the other side of it to a room filled with old furniture, books, and file cabinets.

Gardiner went to the chair behind his desk and motioned for Gibbs to sit first, "Please."

Gibbs scowled at him, and plopped down in the leather chair in front of his desk.

"I'd have Amanda get you coffee, but she's out on vacation, and I don't think I'd want to give you one anyway, since your palette is so…delicate. What can I do for you, Agent Gibbs?" Gardiner said, sitting down himself, and trying to smooth out the ruffles in his composure.

Gibbs leaned forward, glaring at the man.

"You can tell me about the package you gave Tony, after the service."

Gardiner licked his lips nervously. "I can't do that."

Gibbs continued the glare for a moment, and then smiled a little.

"Confidentiality?"

"Yes," Gardiner said in a less than confident tone.

"Mmm," Gibbs nodded his head. "Mr. Gardiner, did you hear from Tony in the last several days? And, think twice before you answer. I can have your phone records checked if need be."

Gardiner frowned, and swallowed harshly.

"Yes."

"And?"

"We had financial matters to discuss in regard to his father's estate, and also I needed to arrange for him to have keys for the house in the Hamptons."

"I see." Gibbs sighed, relaxing back for a moment.

"And did you give him keys, Mr. Gardiner?'

Gardiner sighed. He knew where this was going.

"Yes. I had them left in the mailbox."

"But you don't know if Tony ever picked them up?"

"Well, ahhh, I assume he has them…"

"Never assume, Mr. Gardiner." Gibbs suddenly got up, perusing the books on Gardiner's shelves. "Actually, I heard the house burned down," Gibbs said almost absently.

"Yes." Gardiner was starting to sweat. "What do you want, Agent Gibbs? Can we please get to the point?"

Gibbs turned on him, and his eyes held a hawk-like focus, a cold stare, that chilled Gardiner to the bone.

"I want you to answer my questions," Gibbs said in a low, menacing growl, "or I can easily suggest to the locals that you had something to do with that house going up."

"You…can't. You wouldn't…it would potentially also implicate the young Mr. DiNozzo."

"He's already been implicated, probably by you to CYA," Gibbs continued. "So no new news there. But, I can probably help smooth things over for you and Tony, if you cooperate. And, it won't go any further than this room."

Gardiner seemed to be thinking furiously.

"Up to you, Gardiner," Gibbs crooned, "it's either the hard way, or the easy way. You decide."

Gardiner sighed.

"What do you want to know?"

"Tony had a letter in that package. A personal letter. I want to know what it said."

"Then you'll have to ask him, Agent Gibbs, because I don't know what was in that letter. It was hand written and sealed by Mr. DiNozzo Senior himself. I was not privy to it's contents."

Gibbs watched the man for any signs of subterfuge. There were none.

Gibbs let out a huff in frustration.

"Can you tell me anything else?"

"Not about the letter. But I did speak to young Mr. DiNozzo today, just before I arrived."

Gibbs tilted his head expectantly.

"I don't know where he is…but he's asked me to transfer some funding from his father's accounts to his."

"Did he say where he was?"

"You don't know?" Gardiner asked snarkily.

"No. And I'm trying to find him."

"Why?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

* * *

><p>Tony pulled in to Sharlee's after lunchtime.<p>

As he got out of the car, she ran to meet him, shrieking in joy.

She almost knocked him over with the hug, reminding him of Abby…

"Hey Sharlee!" he grinned, as she pulled back and they looked at eachother.

She was still beautiful, though she had definitely aged and gained a bit of weight around her middle. She was dressed in plain slacks and a fitted jacket.

"Look at you!" he said. "A suit! I love suits!"

She laughed, "Well now, you look pretty good yourself there, Dee! You don't seem to have aged very much. You must be having lots of sex!"

He snorted, "Is that the secret?"

"Nah," she laughed, "I've got myself a younger beau and I get it plenty. Still getting' older'n dirt."

She lead him into the large house that served as her office and established brothel. It looked like a standard ranch house, but with several cottages out back, detached.

The outside of the building looked old an worn, but it was incredibly illusive, not telling of the modern and warm décor inside.

The walked through the large front room, with its oriental rugs and rustic oak furniture. There was a huge fireplace, and couches and chairs. It looked like the lounge of a club of some kind.

He followed her down a small hallway, to the right, passing a leggy girl, in a short purple dress, who cheerfully said, "Good Morning, Ms. Sharlee!"

"Good morning Rebecca!" she responded gaily.

The dark haired creature slowed and smiled, passing Tony, passing her aqua blue eyes over him.

He almost walked into Sharlee, and she laughed.

"In here, Dee, before you hurt yourself!" She motioned him into an office with two windows, bright and fresh looking, with a clean oak desk and two chairs. On one wall was a sumptuous suede couch, in a rust color. "Have a seat. You wanna' drink, sugar?"

"No," he smiled, sinking into the delicious suede. "I'm good."

She smiled, eyeing him, and then sat next to him.

"No pictures of the kids?" he said, a little nervous suddenly.

She chuckled, "No. This isn't the place for anyone to know about my personal life. But I'll get you over my house for dinner with the kids. You won't believe how they've grown. Jacob is just about a young man now, and his sister…lemme' tell you, she's gonna break more than a few hearts…"

Tony smiled warmly.

He felt nervous again. But now he knew why. It was the way she was looking at him, scrutinizing…

"Dee," she said gently, putting a hand on his knee, "what are you running from?"

He looked away, but recovered quickly.

"You know, I'm a Fed now?"

"No shit."

"Yeah," he pulled out his badge, and showed it to her. "NCIS. In DC."

"Well, I'll be damned. Pretty impressive for the likes of you!"

He laughed at her. "Yeah."

Putting his badge away he said, "I'm…on vacation for a few weeks. And I just need to blow off some steam…maybe with a little…assistance…" he suddenly felt a little embarrassed. He'd never paid for sex in his life. But this was different. He needed to avoid any attachments or further complications…

"Mmm-hmm," she said, still looking at him closely. "You know, Dee, we have a lot of catching up to do. But…we have plenty of time. I expect to see you around a few times while you're out here. But…I understand."

He looked at her disbelievingly.

"Oh, not about whatever it is you're not telling me… I know people. I know men. And I know you, Dee. Doesn't matter that so much time has passed. You needed to get away. And now you're here."

"And now I'm here, " he echoed her softly, smiling.

"What is it you want to do exactly? While you're here?"

"Well," he sighed, and looked down for a moment. Then he looked back up at her with a wry smile. "A little bit of 'Viva Las Vegas' meets 'Leaving Las Vegas'."

"Still with the movies, huh Dee?" she chuckled. "Well I haven't seen either of those, but, let's start with who you're looking for."

She got up and got a binder off her desk, and handed it to him.

He opened it, and looked up at her with uncertainty.

"In that book are all my girls, and my boys, and menus of what services are available to you."

"Wow," he said, raising his brows as he perused the pages of the book. They were all young, beautiful. Sexy. "I guess I should ask some questions…"

"Out here, it's all legal. As long as you stay here, at the ranch. But, it's illegal to have people come to the hotels, and especially troublesome in Vegas proper." She leaned back, sitting on her desk, and folded her arms. "Now, you and I go way back, and I will never forget what you did for me and mine. So, sugar, if you want to stay in a hotel, as long as it's outside the hot zone, I will send them to you. I trust you. And...as long as you don't get crazy...I can discount some of my fees."

He nodded, "I can pay, Sharlee. It is after all, a legal service." _And a good way to get rid of Senior's money. I hope the old sonofabitch rolls in his grave._

He looked back down at the book.

"What if…there are some things…I…um," he was struggling to ask.

"Some things not on the menu ?" She smiled. "You can either pass them by me, or to the girls individually. As long as it's nothing that will harm them, and they agree to it, it's all good."

He nodded.

"I don't remember you ever saying you were into anything…different…but then again, you never did take me up on my offers." She smiled wistfully at him.

"Well, Sharlee, that just shows you how foolish youth can be."

She chuckled. "It's so good to see you, Dee. How about we have dinner at my house tomorrow night?"

"Sure," he said warmly. He looked at the book once more, and closed it. "I think I'm gonna' go get a hotel room, and I'll call you about…this."

"Sure, sugar. However you want it."

"Just…two things…"

"What, Dee?"

"Well, first is my Boss…"

"Your Boss?"

"Yeah…he's uh…well, he…we're friends…and he worries about me…and I just wanted to get away for a while…"

"It's no one's business that you're here, Dee. Don't you worry about that."

He nodded in appreciation.

"What was the other thing?"

"Ah," he smiled sheepishly, "I don't suppose you have a 'take out' menu?"


	13. Chapter 13

Warning: this chapter (and the next) will contain sex and kink. And combination of earlier conversation will be mixed in with what's happening. A stylistic experiment…if you will. Let me know if it worked.

Love y'all- MG

* * *

><p><em>"Are you sure that's what you want?"<em>

_"Yes."_

**Thwack!**

He moaned, feeling hot pain pulse and shimmer over his skin. He was tied to the bed, face up, blindfolded.

_"I can do it...but it'll cost you."_

_"That's no problem. Just...can you not discuss it with Sharlee?"_

**Thwack! Thwack!**

He groaned louder, feeling the leather flogger suddenly rest on his chest, and slowly drag down his body, teasing at his erection.

His chest and thighs were on fire.

Tony was immobilized by the soft cuffs, on his wrists and ankles. Initially, he worried he might think of Tommy...but this was voluntary…and...this was a woman. Totally different...

But he_ needed_...to feel helpless. He _needed_ to be punished...somehow that felt right. After all...to be thrown away as he had been...and used…he must be...bad, somehow...and deserved this. It was the only thing that made sense in his mind.

He felt her, straddling his thighs, and heard the condom wrapper opening, bed shifting with the little movements she made. She grabbed his cock, and unceremoniously rolled on the condom. Point's for a well trained girl. He's compliment Sharlee on it later...

_"What else should I be prepared for?"_

_"Nothing...but..."_

_She raised her brows at him, tossing her dark hair and pursing the glossy lips._

_"If I need some...medicinal assistance..."_

_"You just tell me, and ...I can try to help you out. Also for a fee. But that's something you can't tell Sharlee about. She'll fire my ass in a New York minute."_

He arched and hissed when she slipped her hot sheath around him, immediately letting her body fall on his hips heavily.

"God..." he breathed, as she pulled his hair roughly, and rode him like a rodeo horse.

_"How rough do you want me to get? There are safety limits, you know."_

_"Just don't...bite me...okay? And don't make be bleed."_

In spite of the alcohol he had consumed before her arrival, he felt his body obeying her, obeying the pleasure, and responding to the pain, as she scratched over the flogger welts.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not his job, not the team, not Senior, or the letter...not even Gibbs. It was all gone, replaced with this... He let go of it all, as she continued her assault on the welts, scratching all the way down to his thighs. The pain was everything…it made him feel complete. Made him feel…abused…

Somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind, he knew this was wrong. But it didn't matter. The feelings were overwhelming him…he wasn't in control. This _felt_ so right... he needed even more…

He could feel her body shifting, wet channel lengthening and getting slicker...she panted with the impending orgasm...

"You're nothing but my fuck toy," she moaned out, changing her body motion to more of a rocking than a riding, snapping her hips back and forth.

"Yes," he answered, and gasped painfully, as she twisted one of his nipples. He was covered in sweat.

He felt her shift a little to one side, and before it registered what she was doing-

**Thwack!**

His neck and jaw took the blow, causing him to jerk again.

He flinched as she let the flogger rest against his side.

"You wanna blow don't you? You're cock feels good...Maybe I wanna use it longer..."she crooned. She started to ride up and down his shaft, harder again.

"Please..." he whispered, aching for release.

"You don't fucking cum until I tell you to," she commanded, and grabbed his hair again, roughly, "but _I'm_ gonna cum now, pretty toy..."

She leaned back, and he felt her hands grasp his middle for support, clawing at his ribcage as she wailed, "Fuck!" and slowed her movements for a little while...

But then the maddening pace continued.

She reached behind her, and squeezed his balls for a moment, turning and twisting them as if trying to milk them...

He cried out and bucked, pulling against the restraints, cock so painfully hard now he thought he would die.

The hand left his scrotum and she leaned forward, starting to ride hard again, and whispered, "Now, toy, now you may cum if you want," and she grabbed his head back with one hand in his hair, twisting mercilessly, while slapping the welts on his chest with the other.

The orgasm was so extreme, that though his mouth opened, he couldn't make a sound. It was like his entire body engaged in the orgasm, arching and jerking off the bed in violent pulses, as he filled the condom, eyes rolling in his head underneath the blindfold.

Tony wasn't sure how long he'd been out of it, but he was vaguely aware of his wrists and ankles being freed. His limbs seemed way too heavy to move anyway.

He vaguely heard her ask, "You okay, Tony?"

He nodded, blinking his eyes open as she removed the blindfold.

She said with amusement, while looking at him. "Almost seems like I should be paying you instead."

He smiled a little, but had no other response. He was still floating somewhere…

He caught some sounds and movements as she packed up her things.

"I'm gonna go get what you asked for, and then I'll be back later tonight. You wanna do it again?"

The slight nod was all he was still capable of, but it was enough.

* * *

><p>Natalia was her name. She was Ukranian. And stunning. Sharlee had recommended her as she was very…versed, in a number of sexual artforms.<p>

She came back that night, calling him before she stopped up, about 1 am.

He threw back several shots of bourbon, knocking back some of the pills she'd gotten for him.

And then she very expertly used rope to immobilize him, while she punished and sucked his cock.

Once again, he let himself be carried off by the sensations, by the helplessness, by the feeling he was nothing more than her plaything…and had another orgasm that almost made him black out, before he fell into a drug induced haze…

* * *

><p>Gibbs was on the road, heading toward LaGuardia airport.<p>

It was a good bet that the second call Tony made to a Sharlee Benton, meant that this person would know something about where Tony was.

Based also on the half million dollars Tony had transferred into his account, Gibbs had a pretty good idea Tony's plan was to blow off some steam.

But that was a lot of money to get into trouble with.

And his gut seemed unable to get off of high alert.

Just as he pulled into the parking lot, his cell rang.

"Gibbs."

"_Where the Hell are you?"_

"Now, is that any way to say hello to a friend, Tobias?"

"_Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners. Jethro, would you mind terribly telling me where the Hell you are __**please**__?"_

"It's a start," Gibbs smiled wryly.

"_I'm at your office. No Gibbs. No DiNutso. No David. And McGee can't seem to tell me what's going on. And Vance is in MTAC and cannot be disturbed. I need to talk to you and Agent DiNozzo. It's important."_

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked with a serious tone.

"_Matteo Campanelli."_

Gibbs' gut clenched. "What about him? He's one of the wiseguys DiNozzo put away when he was in Philly, right?"

"_Yep. Gets out tomorrow. Good behavior and all that…but seems he was talkin' a little smack to some of his cellmates…"_

_God, this is all we need,_ Gibbs thought. He finished parking the car, and rubbed his eyes.

"_Gibbs?"_

"Yeah Fornell. Lemme' guess, he wants revenge, and he wants to do it himself? And it came from a protected informant on the inside we can't put on the stand."

"_You're psychic."_

"No. Just older'n dirt."

"_That makes two of us. Though I'm aging better than you."_

Gibbs snorted through the phone.

"_Well, where are you?"_

Gibbs sighed. "I'm off for a few weeks."

"And Tony?"

"Off for a few weeks."

Fornell was silent, trying to figure it out.

"Tobias," Gibbs said, grabbing his bag and closing the car up, "Tony's father died recently, and he's…taking it hard." He didn't want to get into the letter…since he still couldn't explain it, or Tony's behavior…especially burning the house down…

"_So he took off and you're goin' to bring your chick back to the nest?_" Fornell said, gently as not to have Gibbs construe it as sarcasm.

"Yeah…somethin' like that."

"_Well, call me when you find him Gibbs, and get your asses back here where we can help protect him."_

"Copy that, Tobias."

Gibbs hung up and shook his head to himself.

"I better find you soon, DiNozzo. Don't make it hard for me."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Warnings from last chappy still apply. By the way, you guy, freekin' rock. What awesome readers I have. Thanks so much for the continued support !

* * *

><p><em>"Dee, are you sure about this?"<em>

**Slap! **The hand stung, the back of his thigh felt like it had been seared.

"_Yeah, Sharlee. I…is it a problem?"_

"_Oh no, no, sugar. I'll make it happen. It's early, but I've got someone available."_

**Slap! **He gasped. This time it was his ass. It stung so badly, it made his eyes water.

"_And, you'll still make it to dinner tonight Dee? In one piece?" she asked with a twinge of humor, mixed with concern._

"_Sure, sexkitten. I'll get a nap in this afternoon…I'll call you later for the details."_

"_Okay, Dee." She paused. The cheerfulness in his voice didn't ring true..."Are you sure…you're alright?"_

"_Perfect."_

**Slap!** He moaned.

"You like that huh?" the Brazilian accented voice asked. He'd been brutalizing Tony's back, buttocks, and thighs with a paddle and also his own hand for the last twenty minutes. It seemed so much longer…

Tony was tied face down this time, no blindfold, trembling and sweating in his bonds, spread out...

His response to the young man's question was just a bare grunt.

His name was Paolo. He was tall and tan, with large brown eyes and ringlets of black hair. He was in all actuality, very attractive, though Tony wasn't the best judge of that, since this was the first time he'd voluntarily been with a man.

A man he happened to be paying, to punish and fuck him.

He'd been so nervous, that almost without realizing it he'd swallowed down four of the blue heavens the girl had gotten for him, with a good amount of Burbon. It was two more than he meant to.

He was regretting it now, because he was getting too loopy.

Being tied down, face down, was all his idea. To push himself to the edge.

Yesterday and last night with Natalia had been twistedly satisfying, but …he needed more. More pain. More humiliation. More punishment.

But this was making him apprehensive, and even through the increasing haze of the pills, he was starting to flash back to what Tommy had done to him…

"You're nice and red now," Paolo said, in a low rumble. "And I'm gonna' put my dick in that beautiful ass of yours…"

This was punishment he deserved wasn't it? He should feel like…nothing. He was nothing.

But the fear was starting to grip him inside.

He heard the condom wrapper, and a bottle opening and closing, and closed his eyes, swallowing back the whimper that tried to leave his throat. He was willing himself to calm…

But things were spinning…a bit out of control…

He felt the bed shift, and a long warm body lay itself over his…making his fresh welts sting...the cock rubbing against the crack of his ass.

He wanted to say something, to tell him to stop, but he was starting to struggle with his tongue…it wouldn't work. All that came out was a moan…

The man was rutting against him, and felt him suddenly shift back and off of him a bit.

Tony felt a finger press up to his asshole, tickling at first, and then slicking into him. He jerked a little, and it burned slightly…

"Shhhh," Paolo crooned in his ear, "I'm gonna make it good for you. Gonna make you cum into the sheets."

Tony tried to take a breath, and shuddered, even with the rapidly decline of his senses.

Suddenly, the finger was replaced by the impossibly hard dick pushed into him, with no hesitation, quickly breaching and filling him, and he cried out.

He was plunged into confusion.

"Soooo gooood," the soft voice said in his ear, as the cock started to move in and out of his body.

He was spinning…where was he? He felt suddenly wrong, and dirty, and shamed beyond measure.

"Such a good boy," Paolo unwittingly murmured, thrusting more violently into him.

Tommy? Tommy was dead wasn't he?

Tony wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, and weakly pulled at his wrists to get free.

But his body…wouldn't obey…couldn't throw off the man who was now tearing into him like he was a rag doll.

"You like that?" Paolo murmured.

But suddenly, it stopped.

"Tony?"

He couldn't respond. He could barely open his eyes.

"Shit!" he heard as the organ slid out of him.

Someone was brushing the tears away from his face, and tapping his cheek.

"Tony! Hey, man, you have to answer me…"

Tony was trembling, and a little moan left his throat again. Images of being chained up and the feeling of a cement floor beneath him were playing in his mind…along with a glinting knife. Someone pulled an eyelid open and then let it close. He wondered if this time, Tommy _was_ going to kill him. Well, maybe that would be okay. He wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore, feel trapped in the worthless life that was his.

He barely noticed being untied, and rolled back over, with a sheet being laid gently over him up to his chest.

Vaguely, he heard a stressed voice in the background.

"_Sharlee, this guy…I didn't know. I think he's on something. No…no he was very nice. A sweetheart. That's not the problem. He's…he's out of it. I think he's high or took some downs… I can't stay with him. I'm outta here…"_

* * *

><p>When Gibbs rolled up to "The Sweet Spot" 314 Saxon Avenue, in Paradise, he was intensely curious about Sharlee Benton and her connection to Tony.<p>

Only the fact that it was late and he had no official paperwork to back it kept him from pounding on her door last night when he got in to Vegas and drove the additional hour to Paradise.

He hadn't seen Tony's car, either at her place, or the business.

So he staked out the business, much like he'd done with Gardiner, and waited for her to come in. It was already 11:00 hours when she finally showed.

Gibbs saw the white Mercedes pull up, and took note of Sharlee's professional attire. She was older, very attractive, and wearing giant sunglasses. Gibbs knew from asking McGee to research it, she had lived in Philly when Tony was a cop there…but he had no clue what the relationship was. He was surprised Tony was friends with a woman who owned a brothel. They had to be friends, since he knew Tony wasn't the type to pay for sex, when he could usually get it as often as he wanted to…

He waited a painful five minutes, and then went into the establishment.

There were two very attractive girls sitting and chatting in the chairs of the lounge area.

They looked up at Gibbs curiously and both smiled, eyeing him like a cat would a mouse.

He scowled.

"Sharlee?" he asked bluntly, not knowing where her office was.

"Who's askin'?" a smooth voice from behind made him turn around.

He got right to it.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs," he produced his badge, and saw the two girls scurry away from the corner of his eye.

Sharlee tilted her head a little and smiled, "Well, hello Special Agent Gibbs. To what do I owe the pleasure? We in some kinda' trouble with the Feds?"

"No," he said, immediately feeling the intelligence and seriousness of the woman vibrating under the smooth exterior.

"I'm looking for someone. He's another Agent. Anthony-Tony DiNozzo." He watched her face as he said Tony's name.

She was damned good. Not even a flicker.

"Doesn't ring a bell, Agent Gibbs."

"You sure about that ma'am?" He asked gently, but his eyes were on her like a laserbeam.

"Well, we get all kinds'a men here, Agent Gibbs, and they don't always use their real names…" she smiled at him, "Now, if that's all, sugar, I need to get back to work. Time is money."

As she turned, he said, "I know he called you yesterday."

She stopped and turned back around.

"A lotta' people call me, Agent Gibbs. And I am certain you know confidentiality os important to my business. So unless you have a warrant, I suggest you turn heel outta' here, while I'm in the mood to ask nicely." Her voice held an undercurrent of venom.

_She's protecting him_, he thought, and smiled. "I know you're just looking out for him, but we have a problem, and he won't answer his phone, or even turn it on right now. You see, Ms. Benton, Tony put away a criminal some time ago, who's out as of today, and we believe he may come after Tony. And Tony doesn't know yet since we can't reach him. So, I need to find him. Now." Gibbs saw her eyes widen just the tiniest bit. He knew that she was strong, and wasn't going to break easily. And it dawned on him that maybe the truth would serve everyone better.

She stared at him for a moment.

She sighed. "Agent Gibbs, do I seem like I was born on a turnip truck?"

He raised an eyebrow, "No, ma'am."

"Firstly, if you call me ma'am one more time, I'm gonna' make you wear your balls for earrings. Secondly, let's say I believe your story, and hypothetically I knew Tony. You know damned well and good that I ain't gonna' just roll over cos' you asked me to."

"No ma- I mean, Ms. Benton."

"I tell you what. You go have some lunch in town. In fact, if you want, you go to the Luxembourg Grill, and tell em' Ms. Sharlee sent you, and they'll fix you up nice. And then you sit tight and see if Tony- Agent DiNozzo, calls you." She smiled at him again, persuasively.

He knew it meant she was going to call Tony herself, to check things out. He couldn't blame her.

"Okay," he said, and handed her a card. "If you need you can reach me at this number."

"Alright, Agent Gibbs." And with that she turned and walked away.

Gibbs practically bolted to his car.

He called McGee right away. It was earlier in DC but he figured the Probie would be at his desk.

_"Boss? Did you find Tony?"_

"McGee, I want you to trace outgoing calls right now from "The Sweet Spot"…"

* * *

><p>It was a decent hotel, one of the chains, and Gibbs wasted no time running into the lobby. His gut was urging him on, demanding he get to Tony now.<p>

He hopped on the open elevator to the fourth floor.

Just as he got out, he passed a very distraught looking young man, with dark curly hair and eyes, who almost bumped into Gibbs in his hurry to get on the elevator.

Gibbs walked brusquely down the hallway to find room 421.

He knocked, but the door had been ajar anyway. Panic hit the adrenaline button in his body.

He quickly pulled his gun, swinging the door open.

It was dead quiet.

He first took in the half empty bottle of Bourbon on the desk, with a glass next to it.

Then his eyes trailed further to the opposite side of the room, to the bed, where a pale and too still Tony was lying.

He wanted to call his name, but first cleared the room and bathroom completely.

His heart was pounding, as he closed the door of the room and put the gun away.

"Tony!" he called, quickly going to his friend and breathing out deep relief at feeling a pulse in his neck.

The room smelled a bit like alcohol and sex.

"What the Hell have you done now?" he said with worry. He sat next to Tony, and tapped his face.

A bare moan was all he got.

He pulled his penlight, and opened one of the green eyes.

Tony flinched a little, weakly turning away.

"Damn you!" Gibbs growled. He knew by the pupil response, this wasn't just alcohol.

He began to look through the room, in every drawer, and then went to the bathroom.

There was a prescription bottle, with no label on it.

He shook his head. "Tell me you didn't DiNozzo…"

He opened it. There were four pills. He recognized them, and was comforted that at least there were pills there, because it meant Tony hadn't swallowed the whole bottle or OD'd. He's likely taken some with alcohol…

Gibbs sighed and shook his head. If he couldn't get Tony to wake up with a cold shower and coffee from room service, they were going to have to go to the hospital…and how could they do that while keeping him off Campanelli's radar? If Gibbs could find him, someone else probably could.

He ran the shower and quickly went back to the bed, pulling the sheet off.

When he saw the red marks and scratches, he slowed momentarily. His eyes misted up.

"Oh, Tony."


	15. Chapter 15

He practically threw his lower back out getting Tony into the shower. The younger man gave him some help when he got him up on his feet…but not much.

And he got more of an eyeful of the markings, red and angry, on the back of his body as well as the subtle remnants of indentations and rubbed irritations on his wrists and ankles.

He heart truly sunk.

Gibbs wasn't judgemental about what anyone, including Tony, might like to play at in their sexual life.

But this…what Tony was doing? Gibbs knew what this was. For Tony, it was coming from a very dark place, it was because he felt he somehow deserved it. And after what Tony had been through just months ago...

Gibbs was determined to get Tony to listen, once he sobered him up. Now with Campanelli on the loose…it was even more urgent to work this – whatever this was - out.

"Come on," he panted, with one of Tony's arms over his shoulder. The one around his waist was practically holding him up.

"Mmm…what's…"Tony was a little responsive, but barely keeping his eyes open.

"I need you to step over the tub, Tony. Can you do that?"

Tony didn't respond verbally, but did his best to pick up a foot, stepping it into the bathtub, where the cool water was coming down from the shower.

Gibbs hadn't made it too cold…yet. Because he knew it would be a harder fight to get him in.

As soon as one foot hit the water, Tony seemed to jump a little, groggily picking his head up.

"Come on, other foot…" Gibbs urged, as he got Tony all the way in, "just lean a little on the wall…okay…"

Tony shuddered as the cool water hit more of his body. He looked at the man next to him, just outside the stream of the water, with red, bloodshot eyes.

"Gibbs?" he rasped out, looking confused.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Gibbs asked snarkily.

"What…"Tony shivered, "what the _Hell _are you doing here?"

Just then, there was frantic knocking at the door.

_**Shit.**_ Gibbs thought. Can't be Campanelli...but could be someone working for him. He quickly sprinted from the bathroom, leaving Tony to lean fully on the wall.

He pulled his weapon.

"_Dee? Are you in there?"_

It was Sharlee.

Gibbs quickly opened the door and pulled her in.

She squealed a little and got ready to throw a punch.

"Easy! It's just me!" Gibbs said, raising up his hands, gun still in the right.

"Jesus jumpin' Christ on a unicycle," she blurted out, "you trying to give me a damned heart attack?"

He smiled a little, "No, and we have enough trouble already." He turned and put the gun away, as she looked around.

"Is Dee here?"

"I'm thinking you mean Tony, and yes." Gibbs turned and walked into the bathroom, she was about to follow him when he looked at her and asked, "Can you order up two pots of coffee? We're gonna' need it."

She nodded, "Sure," and shook her head, already knowing that Tony must be in need of sobering up.

Gibbs entered the bathroom, and saw Tony had slid down into the tub, with his knees drawn up to his chest, and was almost asleep again. He reached over and shut down all the hot in the water.

He knew the minute it had gone ice cold.

"FUCK!" Tony yelled, jumping up at lightning speed and trying to get away from the freezing water.

But Gibbs gripped him firmly, getting a good dose of the cold himself as he held Tony under the stream.

"What the Hell is wrong with you Gibbs? Let me go!" Tony tried to scream at him, but was too weak, so it came out a little more than an angry wail.

"I could ask you the same thing, Tony," he growled.

"Let. Me. Outofhere!" Tony fought him, now starting to kick as well as flail.

"No. Ten minutes. And then we're done," Gibbs grunted, now pinning Tony's arms totally and stepping into the shower to fully hold him in place.

"**Fuck you**! Fuck you Gibbs! Who the Hell do you think you are?" Tony was filled with rage, though his body couldn't quite keep up with it.

"Sharlee!" Gibbs called.

She was there instantly. She looked at the two of them, wondering how Gibbs was managing it.

"Can you please, get my things out of my pockets and put them on the sink?" He grunted out the request, as Tony continued to fight him. He was getting drenched in the process.

She complied, raising a brow and smiling. He was after all, a very attractive man. She put the keys, wallet, badge and other items on the top of the sink as requested. And then she lingered in the room, just a moment, to sadly say, "Dee, I had no idea you were in such bad shape. You should have told me, sugar."

"You don't belong here either Sharlee!" Tony said loudly, tilting his head back a little to attempt a glare at her. "Just get out!'

But she just smiled. "Oh, just like you don't scare Gibbs, you don't scare me either darlin'. I've seen this…ailment before." She looked at Gibbs, sadly but with affection, "I'll wait for the room service."

"Sharlee!" Gibbs called.

She popped her head back into the bathroom. "Yes, Gibbs?"

"Just…don't open the door. We'll be out soon and I want to make sure we're ready if it's trouble."

She smiled, "Well now Agent Gibbs, what kind of Madame would I be if I walked around without my own Gat? You mind Dee, sugar. I gotch'ur six, as they say."

He nodded at her once appreciatively, and then she went back into the room.

Tony finally started to flag, and leaned back against Gibbs. His head fell to rest at Gibbs' shoulder.

"Why can't you just leave me alone," he said brokenly. Feeling Gibbs pressed up against the back of his body just reminded him of what he had experienced earlier with Paolo…what parts of it he could remember…

Gibbs changed his grip, allowing his arms to move up, more in an embrace than to control him. "You know why," he said calmly.

They stood in silence another five minutes, before Gibbs would finally let go and see if Tony could stand a little.

He could, though not very steadily.

Gibbs got them out of the shower, and wrapped Tony in the bathrobe provided by the hotel, and dried him as best he could as he sat on the closed toilet, shivering. He refused to turn his glassy eyes to look at Gibbs.

Gibbs sighed. "I hope there are enough clothes we can both wear now, since I'm soaked myself, and my stuff's in the car."

"Nobody asked you to come here," Tony mumbled.

"No. But that's not how it works between us.," Gibbs said, struggling to contain the building anger he felt. "And by the way, Matteo Campanelli got out of prison on good behavior today."

_Oh, now that got his attention,_ Gibbs thought.

Tony's head snapped towards him, bloodshot eyes wide.

"Campanelli?"he hissed, shocked. He frowned and looked around for a moment.

"Yes. And we've been trying to reach you, but you've been too busy with your…head up your ass, to turn your phone on."

"The phone was off," Tony ground out, "so I didn't have to talk to _you_. Or anyone else. I have a right to do what I want on my time off."

"Oh, **you do**?" Gibbs asked loudly. "How about **this**?" He grabbed the prescription bottle off the sink. He held it in front of Tony, who looked away once again. "What'sa matter DiNozzo? Cat finally got your tongue? Finally rendered you speechless?"

Gibbs was starting to seethe.

He threw the bottle into the shower angrily.

"I'm still gonna' bring your stupid ass back to DC and try to keep you safe! You got a death wish Tony? Is that it?"

Tony was looking at the floor, and Gibbs saw the change in his face.

The anger had left him, and the younger man was trembling, as he whispered, "I don't know…"

Gibbs stepped in front of him and knelt down to look him in the eyes. When Tony tried to turn away again, Gibbs grabbed his chin.

"Look at me," he said, calming himself down, trying to focus on what he was going to say next.

"Whatever it is, that's eating you this bad…you _have_ to tell me." He looked into Tony's pale face. "You know I would go to the ends of the earth for you. Hell and back if necessary. And…we've already been there, haven't we? So whatever this is, you need to tell me. Now. Because I **will not** give up. And I will not lose you."

Tony swallowed and looked down for a moment, and finally, his eyes welled up as he looked at Gibbs in misery, and choked out, "I can't. I…" his brow creased, and he stared at Gibbs, so sadly, the older man wanted to cry right along with him. "I'm sorry…I'm so…" Tony was starting to simply come apart, and Gibbs quickly leaned forward to embrace him fiercely.

He wanted to scream at Tony.

He wanted to throttle him until he told Gibbs what the letter said.

But Gibbs had made his decision. He wasn't going to give up. Ever. And he knew, that Tony would tell him this deep dark secret, soon. He was close to cracking. Gibbs could see what a bad state Tony was in, and wondered if he was going to have him admitted to a hospital in DC…at least where they could protect him better.

Suddenly he realized Tony was going limp again.

"Oh no," he pulled back. "Come on," he shook the younger man, who looked confused again. "Time for some coffee," and as if on cue, room service knocked on the door.


	16. Chapter 16

Sharlee watched the two men emerge from the bathroom.

Gibbs was still almost dragging Tony, who was pale faced and disoriented.

"Sit," Gibbs commanded, letting Tony drop down into the chair next to the desk.

He saw Sharlee had already poured the coffee for them, and he put the cup with cream in it in front of Tony.

"Drink that," Gibbs urged the younger man, who stared at it at first, blinking, and then lifted his hand slowly, to do what he was told.

Sharlee was sitting on the bed, relaxing, just observing them.

Tony finally looked up at her, as Gibbs ransacked his duffel bag for some dry clothes and wordlessly went to the bathroom to change.

He drank the whole first cup down, since it wasn't too hot, and Sharlee got up and poured him another cup, adding three heaping spoons of sugar and cream.

"You remembered, after all this time," he said softly, as she stirred it with a spoon.

She smiled a little and looked at him. "You don't think Ms. Sharlee forgets a thing, do you really, Dee?"

He smiled back at her, eyes misting up once more.

She put the spoon down, and gently stroked his hair.

"I remember how you take your coffee, just like I remember that amazing human being who emptied out his bank account to help a streetwalker with two kids get out of a bad neighborhood."

Tony looked at her, with some surprise in his tired eyes.

"But," he said hoarsely,"how-"

"Dee, I know people. I always have. Some things are easy to figure out." She stared at him for a moment, seeing Gibbs lingering in the doorway of the bathroom from the corner of her eye.

"Just like now," she continued softly. "I know this isn't you, Dee."

He suddenly looked away, with shame in his eyes.

"Sharlee," he said in almost a whisper, and looked back at her, raising his brows, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Oh hush." She patted him. "I'm just glad you're okay and your friend came after you, Dee. Paolo was pretty shook up before..."

Gibbs seemed to jerk back his head slightly, in surprise at the mention of a man...and then he shook his head, remembering the young man he passed on the way to Tony's room. He sighed shakily.

Tony tensed a little, but said nothing, choosing to sip down more coffee.

"Now," she said in the same relaxed tone, "did you bring those pills with you, or did one of my people supply you? Because you know, Dee, that could get me into some deep shit with my business. And I pride myself on being legit. _Someone _gave me a chance to do something' right years ago. And I don't wanna' screw it up now, do I?"

Gibbs smiled and shook his head again. _Damn. She was good._ And she knew Tony.

Tony seemed to tremble a little. But then he simply said, "Natalia."

She nodded.

"Okay," she said, and then sat down in the other chair near the desk.

Gibbs continued to watch the scene unfolding, with a mix of admiration for her, and fear for Tony, knowing more what he had subjected himself to, and that he was a loose cannon.

"Dee?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Do you remember anything that happened this morning?"

Tony slowly put the coffee cup down, hoping they wouldn't see how badly his hands started to shake.

He remembered. And he knew he'd had a flashback, and was too drugged to communicate with Sharlee's boy to how badly he needed it to stop...

His breath was becoming shallow and his heart started to pound.

"I..." he closed his eyes for a moment, as he tried to shake off the fog from his mind. He had to get out of this conversation. He was afraid he might have an episode in front of her...

"It's okay, Dee. You can tell me. I'm your friend and I just wanna' help you."

Suddenly his head snapped up a little.

"Are you Sharlee? My friend? I mean...you think you know me...but do you really? Did you? Even back then?"

She frowned, her dark eyes boring into his now less bloodshot ones.

"Yessir." She said it with conviction, instinctively knowing he needed to hear it. "Without a doubt."

He stared at her another minute, and seemed confused, finally looking away with a sigh.

"Somethin' happened," she said in a low, quiet voice. "Somethin' made you feel like… you don't know who you are anymore."

_More than one thing_, he thought bitterly. He still wouldn't look at her, but she could see him struggling to keep his composure, to not give anything away.

The room remained silent for a bit, and then she sighed, and shifted, crossing her legs in the chair.

"I tell you what, Dee, you're not the only one."

Tony's eyes finally met hers again.

She continued, "Lotsa' things happen to people. Bad things. Confusing things. Sometimes...you don't know who you are anymore when you look in the mirra'. But...you're still in there. The lives you touch, the people connected to your heart...they're all in there. That's the truth, Dee. The rest is just shit you gotta' figure a way to swalla' down and get past."

He was listening, she could tell. But she was skating on the edge of a soapbox now, and decided to get off, before he lost the train of thought to anger.

"Drink your coffee. Your boss wants to get moving. I can see the veins comin' out his head from here."

Tony nodded, and wordlessly resumed consuming the coffee.

Sharlee looked over his shoulder, to Gibbs, surprised to see the man's blue eyes bright with subtle moisture, as he gave her a little smile that told her what he'd thought of her words.

* * *

><p>They got on the road, in Gibbs' rental car.<p>

Tony looked horrible. He was pale, and had dark circles under his eyes.

They'd said goodbye to Sharlee, who had given them both back-breaking hugs. She also made Tony promise he would come back to visit when he was feeling better. And Tony snorted when Gibbs jumped, as Sharlee grabbed his ass while giving him his goodbye hug.

But once in the car, there was silence, as Tony simply looked out the window, and eventually closed his eyes.

After they'd left Nevada state lines, Tony suddenly picked his head up.

"Boss?"

"DiNozzo."

"We didn't go to the airport."

"Yeah, I know."

"Uh, why?"

"Two reasons. You're smart. figure em' out."

"You don't want our names on flights, so we can't be tracked."

"Mm-hmm."

"And you...like long, boring roads?" Tony said, now irritated because it meant he was going to be stuck for a while with Gibbs. And he needed...to be alone. Didn't he?

Gibbs smirked, and looked at him for just a moment, before concentrating on the road again.

"No. I thought a few days together might be a good idea. Give you a chance to...regroup."

"Is that the word for it," Tony said flatly, and then looked back out his window. He knew what Gibbs really meant was that he was going to basically be a thorn in his side until he caved and told him what was in the letter.

Up until now, he hadn't been able to talk about it, because it was so painful. Saying it out loud…felt like it would be the end of him. Now...he could add spite for a reason not to tell Gibbs...

He snorted at himself in disgust. Maybe he was just acting like a five year old.

"Aw, come on, DiNozzo. They've got great movies at Super Eights." He was trying to bait the younger man, knowing he would cringe at staying in such a dumpy motel. Of course, it would likely be a Holiday Inn...but, he didn't need to tell Tony that.

But Tony just sighed, and closed his eyes again, falling into a deep sleep.

Gibbs pulled over for gas in West Valley City, Utah, and Tony still didn't wake up.

He bought a few snacks and drinks, and used a pay phone to call in to Fornell and to McGee, letting them know that he and Tony were alright and on the road.

He left his cell on so McGee could track them in an emergency, but took no chances having it actively signaling their location with a dial-in.

When he got into the car, he gently closed the door. He expected Tony to be still asleep. And he was. But it didn't look restful.

He was twitching a little, and was covered in a light sweat, breathing erratically.

Gibbs knew what this was. Another one of Tony's nightmares.

He put a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Tony," he called gently.

A desperate moan came from him, indicating Gibbs hadn't gotten him out of the dream.

"Tony!" he said loudly, and the younger man jumped, with a gasp, and opened his eyes.

Before he could really get his wits about him, Tony pulled away from the touch, as a strange cacophony of terrifying images were still fading from his mind. There was a lot of blood… the piano keys again...and hands on his skin...

He shuddered, still breathing heavily, and then looked at Gibbs.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked.

Tony frowned and looked away, rubbing his eyes and murmuring, "M'fine."

"Yeah," Gibbs muttered, starting the car, "right."

* * *

><p>After showing his badge and paying in cash for the room in Akron, Colorado, the manager decided it was okay not to have any credit card information (for incidentals) go through on the hotel system.<p>

Tony wanted to ask for his own room. But knew better. He was going to be lucky if Gibbs didn't cuff him before they went to sleep. He wished he had his car. Gibbs had insisted on leaving it with Sharlee and having her ship it back in a week.

When they got into the room, Tony threw his bag into a corner disgustedly and flopped onto the bed.

He stared at the ceiling while Gibbs got settled.

"M'I gonna need to cuff you tonight?" Gibbs asked while he walked around the room, "or are you gonna' stay put?"

Tony chuckled bitterly. "I was wondering if you'd do that. But…ah, I'd rather not…be restrained, if it's okay with you."

Gibbs let the words sink in a little before responding.

He stopped what he was doing, and stood, looking at the younger man.

"You…let that guy…"

Tony was embarrassed, but more angry than anything else.

"We're **not** talking about this," he said in a low warning, looking back up at the cieling.

"The Hell we're not!" Gibbs said loudly.

Tony suddenly sat up, fury exploding from him, "**Yes! I not only "let" him, I paid him to!**" He saw Gibbs pale a little. "**I PAID him to do it! What does it matter**?"

Gibbs saw the bolts coming undone, and the rage in Tony's eyes. He vaguely wondered if they were going to get into a physical skirmish…

"You're a **FEDERAL AGENT** for chrissakes ! You KNOW better Tony! Don't you think this has gone _**far enough**_?" Gibbs was yelling, but the tone was not just frustrated…he was imploring…

Tony stood up, and got right in Gibbs' face. He was trembling with adrenaline, staring at Gibbs with a look he had never seen in the green eyes. He wasn't even sure what emotion was behind it.

But all Tony said was, "No." And then stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

He locked it, feeling at this point it would be the only space he could get away from Gibbs. He wanted to bolt from the room, or hit Gibbs. But he knew neither was going to be an acceptable…or successful option.

He sank down, resting his head on his knees and wept silently, feeling hatred inside him, uncertain as to whom it was directed at.


	17. Chapter 17

Tony sat for about an hour, unmoving.

He heard Gibbs turn on the tv, and move around the room some more before settling down.

He felt incredibly angry at Gibbs. And guilty at the same time, that Gibbs was such a good friend and all Tony wanted to do was get away from him.

He sighed shakily, and got up.

He heard Gibbs' cell ring, and opened the door when he herd the tension in the older man's voice.

"When?" Gibbs asked the person on the other end tersely.

He looked up at Tony from his seated position on one of the double beds.

"Are you alright?" Gibbs asked into the cell, frowning, and looking down. His eyes darted around for a moment, listening some more.

Then a little wry smile played on his lips.

"Good. Maybe you should apply for a job with us."

Tony was even more curious as to who Gibbs was talking to.

"Okay. I'll tell him….Okay." Gibbs hung up and looked at Tony, a little strangely.

"Who was that?" Tony asked.

"Sharlee."

"Sharlee?" Tony became immediately concerned, "What happened?"

"One of Campanelli's men swung by The Sweet Spot. Saw your car out back."

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, groaning.

"She's okay," Gibbs assured him quickly. "She wanted me to tell you she wasn't hurt. Apparently, the jackass walked in and grabbed one of her girls, and asked for you. He threatened her with a gun, and Sharlee overheard."

Tony looked at Gibbs, wide-eyed.

"And?"

"Sharlee had her gun out and ready, and when said idiot swung his arm towards her, she shot him."

Tony shook his head. "Never should'a happened. But she's okay? And the girl?"

"They're all okay. Local LEO's came in, and they're in the process of identification of the body. I'm banking Fornell's already on it."

"She's a good shot, huh?" Tony said bitterly. It was his fault. Sharlee was in danger just because of him.

"DiNozzo, she's_ fine_. And, we really need to watch our asses. That was a little close. If I could track you, someone else could too."

"I wasn't trying that hard to cover my tracks…but I should have." Tony sighed and walked over to the other bed. He was staring at nothing now. "I should call her."

"I don't want your phone on."

"Well, then I better not turn it on," Tony said hollowly, "wouldn't wanna', go against any of your orders." He sat down on the bed, looking longingly at the door.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Tony rolled his shoulders, trying hard to calm himself. It was going to be a long night.

Gibbs called Fornell, who as he guessed, was on top of the situation.

They ordered pizza, giving a phony name for the room. Though Gibbs urged him to eat, Tony couldn't get too much down.

Once or twice he looked at Gibbs, while the older man was eating and reading the newspaper.

He was suddenly, incredibly sad, because he wanted to talk to Gibbs so badly. But everything had changed. Or had it? He was so confused…and wished that he could erase the last week or so of his life and go back to the way things were…

He thought about what Sharlee said to him earlier that day.

And then thought about taking the pills, being tied down to the bed, and fucked by the man he hired…

He got up and started to pace the room. He needed to get away...from himself.

Gibbs gave him a covert glance, and then went back to the paper.

It was when he started fidgeting with his hands too that Gibbs knew he was getting agitated again. He put the paper down.

"What's up, Tony?" he asked softly.

Tony just shook his head and didn't look at the older man.

"I need to get out of here."

Gibbs hesitated. "It's getting late, less people around. Makes us stand out more if go out walking around…"

**"I KNOW!**" Tony suddenly yelled, and looked at Gibbs, coming to a stop. Then he said more calmly, "Maybe you should have gotten us separate rooms."

Gibbs snorted. "Yeah, and you wouldn't disappear in five minutes flat."

Tony looked around the room again, and sighed. "I'm gonna' go out of my mind."

"So," Gibbs picked up the paper, "watch a movie."

Tony sat down on the bed again. He didn't feel like watching anything. But he was flagging, finally, becoming tired.

He flopped back onto the bed, mind still turning things over, when sleep came over him quickly.

Gibbs stared at him for a long while. This kind of rollercoaster Tony was on…he'd never seen before. Not even when he had to battle PTSD. Gibbs ached to find a way to help him, but knew he had to be patient, to wait him out.

He got up, and pulled the coverlet on the bed from its side to cover the younger man, who looked absolutely comatose.

Gibbs lowered the volume on the television, and got ready for bed.

* * *

><p>Something startled him awake. Gibbs looked at the clock. 04:23 hours.<p>

He bolted up and turned on the light.

This time, he didn't even bother swearing at the empty bed.

He jumped up and looked for the rental keys, sighing with relief that they were still in the room. He also saw Tony's bag and clothes still there.

Which meant Tony likely went for the walk he wanted, or if Gibbs got lucky, just to the fitness center and was still in the hotel. He also looked for Tony's phone, hoping that he was considerate enough to take it, knowing Gibbs would worry. But, that's what regular Tony would do. This Tony…he couldn't be sure. This Tony could be on a bus headed for Baja for all he knew. But…since his things were still in the room…Gibbs reasoned he was nearby.

After searching, he found Tony's badge, gun, and wallet all in his bag. SO he had taken his phone.

Gibbs blew out a breath. "I dunno, I dunno…" wondering to himself if this was an improvement…

He called Tony's cell. It rang. But no one picked up.

Gibbs' gut did a flip.

"Shit."

* * *

><p>Tony had thought just to walk around the hotel. When he awoke, he saw Gibbs sleeping in the light of the television. The worry lines he saw on his friends face made him think twice about taking off again. So he didn't. Instead, opting to just explore the hotel. He figured when he came back in an hour or so, Gibbs would be waking up anyway, since it was usual for him to wake early.<p>

Tony smiled to himself, at how Gibbs had been snoring. "That's why he gets up so early. He sleeps like a brick."

The hotel was set up with a large indoor courtyard, with four levels of rooms surrounding it.

He looked over the retaining wall of their floor, the third, down into the lobby, and the central seating area littered with club chairs and couches. Not very fancy. But, the looked comfortable. He kept walking to the end of the hall, and was almost at the elevator bank, when he felt something small and cold at his lower back.

He froze.

"You make a sound, you die here. Any sudden moves, you die here. Try to call for help, and-"

"Yeah, I get it, I die here," Tony said in a low almost bored tone.

"Hah, the boss told me you're a real smart ass. We'll see how long you keep that up, DiNozzo." The man pushed the muzzle of the gun harder into him. "Move to the right, down the hall, and walk until you get to room 361."

Tony did as he was told, sorry now he'd left his gun in the room. Gibbs was going to murder him for this. If he wasn't already dead.

"You got a room here too? Wow this place is popular," Tony said, as the man practically shoved him against the wall by the door.

"Shut up."

The man opened the door with his card key, and then herded Tony inside.

The room was neat, and there was only a briefcase on the desk, no other bags.

"Against the wall. Spread em'."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Tony asked snarkily, which earned him a gun butt to the back of his head.

He was temporarily blinded with pain, almost falling into the wall as the man frisked him. He gasped a little at the dizziness as he tried to keep himself upright.

During the process, Tony's phone rang. He felt a hand take it from his front pocket.

"Your friend Gibbs," the man behind him said. "No worries. See, I've got a friend too. He's gonna collect your pal'n bring him here."

He spun Tony around, having to hold him up a bit, pointing the gun in his face.

The man was huge, like a wall, and reminded Tony of Lou Ferrigno. Except maybe…the zombie version.

"You have friends…looking like _that_?" Tony said, head throbbing.

"**Sit down**," the man stepped back and pointed to the chair, gun still trained on his victim.

Tony did as he was told, waiting for an opportunity…just a moment for the gun to point somewhere else or for the hideous man to get distracted.

But that didn't happen.

"Reach into the drawer in the desk, the top one."

Tony did, and scowled when he found handcuffs.

"Open em'. Arms back through the chair, and then close em'."

Tony suddenly wondered why this hotel had to have chairs with open backs and a center rung. This was going to complicate things…not to mention he would be restrained…

"**Now!**" the man said. "Take a look, pretty boy, there's a silencer on here. The Boss wants you alive, but he didn't say I couldn't hurt you."

Tony clenched his teeth angrily and slid his arms back behind him, through the back of the chair, and put the cuffs on.

Once they clicked into place, "Lou" seemed very pleased.

He took out his phone and dialed.

"Boss. Yeah. We got him."

Tony was trying to deal with the pain still pulsing from his head, and the anxiety that being restrained…

"Betty's out waiting for the other guy. Gibbs. We'll get him too. And wait for you. Uh-huh…when does your flight come in?"

_So, Campanelli wants to see me in person_, Tony thought, amused by the irony of the situation. He wanted to destroy himself. But was irritated someone else wanted to do it.

"Okay. Yeah. It's a shame about JohnnyBoy. We'll go take care of that _whore_ in Vegas when we're done here, right Boss?"

Tony felt fear grip him. They were talking about Sharlee. He couldn't let anything happen to her…

"Good. See you later." The hulking man closed his cell.

He turned his dark, beady eyes on Tony.

"So, now we're just waiting for our other guest to show up. What should we do in the mean time?"

Tony said nothing, shaking after what he overheard about them wanting to kill Sharlee.

"Chess?" the man asked, standing up. "Checkers?"

"No offense, Lou, but…I don't think you'd be much of a challenge."

As Tony expected, it was only a few seconds before the fist sailed across his mouth.


	18. Chapter 18

Tony hurt.

His jaw ached.

And he knew blood had flowed from the side of his mouth where the lip split.

'Lou' stopped after a while though, afraid Campanelli would arrive and be angry that he wasn't the one doing all the damage.

Tony was still dizzy from getting the gun butt to the back of his head.

But he was trying to work out how they had caught up with him.

"So…You followed me to Vegas…and then here? What did you do, take a helocopter?" he murmured, almost to himself.

"No, _Special Agent_ DiNozzo. The Boss was one step ahead. He had someone track you, and then we tracked Gibbs. Sort of, coverin' it at both ends. And the _genius_ who checked you into the hotel, still managed to get the name 'Gibbs' into the hotel system." The huge man was rolling down and buttoning his cuffs, now that he was finished for the time being, beating on Tony.

He took in his prisoner's stony look.

"What? You Feds always think you're the only one with computer whiz kids at your disposal."

"Well, aren't you smart," Tony said in a low voice. "But…you know, someone's gonna know we're missing. And look for us. Here."

The man tilted his head, "Yeah, but that won't be until after you get what's comin' to you. That's why we got a room right here. Same floor. No one will think to look."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Tony said sullenly.

Just then, a card key could be heard opening the door, and Tony was horrified to see Gibbs, with blood down the side of his face, roughly pushed into the room. His hands were cuffed in front of his body.

"Nice job, Betty," the hulking man said, as his more medium built and bald friend continued to shove Gibbs into the room. He pushed Gibbs back until he was knocked into the edge of the bed and fell on it.

Gibbs quickly sat up, looking at Tony, but said nothing and then looked back at their captors.

"He came easy. I just told him we had pretty boy there," the man said in a nasal voice that reminded Tony of a bee trapped in a jar.

"Tie his feet ," 'Lou' said.

Betty opened the briefcase and took out a length of thin rope, and snarled at Gibbs while his cohort pointed a gun at Tony's thigh.

"One wrong move, Gibbs, and he gets a shot in the leg. Though, pity, I can't kill him yet. Boss' orders." He smiled ferally.

Gibbs said nothing, as the man called Betty tied his ankles together.

"Shouldn't we cuff him in back, Betty?"

"Eh, I'm gonna tie his hands to the ropes on his ankles. That should do the trick," he said plainly as he shoved Gibbs back on the bed again.

Lou shrugged. "That'll do too, I guess."

"He has nothing to do with this," Tony said in a low growl, eyes filled with anger, belying the fear he felt for Gibbs. He knew once Campanelli showed up, he would likely just kill Gibbs first to torment him.

Tony's head was slammed back into the chair, as the hulking man wrapped his hand around his throat, effectively pinning him and cutting off his air.

"You should keep your mouth shut, before I do something we'll both regret. I'm tired of hearing you." He stared at Tony for a moment, and then let go.

Tony coughed and choked for a minute, shivering at the memories that teased from the back of his mind…of other hands around his throat …

_Great. That...again_, he thought.

"You get the phone too?" Lou asked Betty.

"Yeah. Right here."

"Take this one," Lou gave him Tony's phone. "Take em' both, and then drive em' two miles out of town or so, to another hotel, and call one from the other. Then, dump em there. And come back."

"Okay," Betty said, looking a little nervous.

"Don't make a face like that. The Boss'll be here in a couple'a hours, and we get it all done and then gone. Then, just one more stop in Vegas."

Tony tensed, remembering what they planned to do to Sharlee.

Betty stared at him for a moment.

"Okay. What're you gonna do now?"

"I'm gonna' order up some room service. I'm hungry after my workout," he smiled maliciously at Tony, who scowled with his still bleeding and bruised mouth.

"Okay, but, you're not gonna' let em' in here right?"

"Nah, I'll call it up, and wait in the hall for a few minutes. Besides, I wanna' call Lexi."

"That stripper?"

"Yeah. She's just about getting off from work at this time…"

"Veet, you _never_ date the strippers. Don't you ever learn?"

_Ah_, Tony thought, _not 'Lou', but Vito_. Didn't matter. He still regarded the man hulk-like, and would think of him as 'Lou' anyway. And wished desperately he could kill him before Gibbs or Sharlee were hurt...

Betty left with their phones, and Tony looked at Gibbs to see if he was alright.

Gibbs was sitting on the bed, with his knees drawn up to his chest, the only way he could comfortably sit with his hands attached to his ankles as they were.

While 'Lou' was on the phone, ordering room service, Tony whispered, "Boss, you okay?"

Gibbs looked a little pale, but seemed alert in spite of the head wound.

"Yeah, Tony, you?" Gibbs passed his pale eyes over the younger man, trying to appraise his condition.

"Got knocked around…but, I'm okay."

Lou hung up and looked at them. "I'm gonna step out to make a call. But," he said, pulling the phone line out of it's jack in the wall, and wrapped it up, putting it in his pocket. "I'll take this cord with me, though it looks like you're pretty incapaciatated, Agent Gibbs."

"_Incapacitated_?" Tony echoed, and then smiling, said, "that's an awful big word, Lou. How long'd it take you before you got it right?"

The man gave him an angry look, and then shook his head. He showed them both his gun again. "Don't try anything stupid. One of you is very expendable." He smiled again, leaving the room with his cell phone out.

When the door closed, Tony looked at Gibbs gravely.

"Boss, you can't be here when Campanelli gets here…" Tony reflected quickly, "actually, I don't think_ I_ wanna be here when Campanelli gets here."

Gibbs sighed, worry etched on his features.

"I'm a little _'incapacitated'_ here still, DiNozzo. Besides, thought you had a death wish."

The last words made Tony's mouth drop open a little, and he looked away from Gibbs.

Gibbs could see as his breathing became shallow, that Tony was actually angry at what he'd said.

"Come on, Tony. Let's be realistic here," Gibbs said softly. "Campanelli's doing you a favor."

Tony glared at him. "I can't believe you'd say that to me right now. Gibbs, this is not the time!"

"Why not? There's a good chance we're gonna' die before anyone's aware of what's going on. So why not now?"

Tony's mouth twisted in a grimace, irritated with himself that he didn't have an answer…exactly.

"You owe me."

"What?" Tony said with wide eyes.

Gibbs just stared into him for a moment. "If I'm gonna die in the process of protecting your sorry ass, don't you think you might consider fessing' up as to **WHY** I had to come across the country to find you screwed up on drugs and sleeping with hookers?"

Tony swallowed, looking around.

Gibbs was right. He shouldn't even be here. It should only have been Tony they got their hands on. And now Gibbs was hurt, and likely going to die because of him. And Sharlee was going to die too. Because of everything he'd done. Because of that stupid letter.

Tony sighed, eyes welling up, suddenly feeling lost again, and unsure of even how to explain it.

Not looking at Gibbs, he said thickly, "We need…need to figure how to get out of this…"

"Tell me."

"You can't be here…you can't…"

"Tell me."

Tony's brow knit together. He knew Gibbs wasn't going to let it go now. And he owed him, at the very least, an explanation.

Tony licked his lips, tasting the bit of blood on the corner of his mouth. He took a deep breath, and still didn't look at his friend.

They sat for a moment like that.

"When I…when I was young, you know, I used to…imagine…that I lived somewhere else…had different parents. I dunno'…I guess, I'd see other kids at school…going home with their parents. To the pretty houses in my neighborhood."

Tony's voice had become so quiet, that Gibbs almost strained to hear him. His heart was pounding, because he knew Tony was finally going to tell him what had been tormenting him so badly, what had driven him almost out of his mind.

"We'd pass them, in the course of the week. I'd look at those houses, and imagined how the other kids were home in them, playing, happy…safe. Not being…molested by their piano teacher. Not being taken to hotels, and..." he faltered. "Not being ignored by their drunk father. Not having to go to bed at night without a kiss from their mother…" He inhaled unsteadily through his nose and let it out. "And what gets me, is in the end, after he…practically throws me out, can't be bothered…he still had to get me. One. Last. Time."

Gibbs saw Tony was trembling, and was finding it more of a challenge to get the words out. He was grateful Tony wouldn't look at him though, at exactly what he was doing…

"What do you mean?" Gibbs urged him on gently,"You mean about what he told you in the letter?"

Tony nodded, as tears started to fall from his eyes.

"He…he could have let me have that life…" Tony said hoarsely, "I could have been one of those other kids…in the other houses…" he shook his head sadly. "Why…why would you adopt a kid, and then…treat him like that?"

Gibbs' eyes widened. He wasn't sure what to expect, but now it was all making sense. Tony's feeling of worthlessness, his disconnection from them all…

"You…weren't Senior's biological son."

"No…" he said brokenly. "I just…" he closed his eyes, because the pain was overwhelming him. "I dunno, Boss, maybe it was what happened with Tommy…and that fucking piano…Anselmo…my dad…all of it…and then he tells me.." his voice finally broke, down to a whisper in between gasps, "in a letter, when he's dead and can't...look me in the eye. That fucking_ bastard_…"

Suddenly, there were arms around Tony, and he jumped a little. Gibbs was leaning over the chair, running his fingers in a soothing motion at the back of Tony's head. Gibbs frowned to himself when he discovered the goose egg sized bump on it.

"What…" Tony choked, confused and still weeping. "How did you just…"

Gibbs pulled back a little, wiping away some of the tears still drifting down Tony's face.

"I ah…" Gibbs looked down, just for a flash, "had the key."

Tony stared at him for a moment, still a bit breathless. Then it dawned on him.

"We're not gonna' die."

"No."

"How-"

"Fornell was tracking Campanelli's movements and phone calls the entire time. Betty clocked me good, but Fornell was right behind him. And they had it all recorded. They're nabbing Campanelli as soon as he sets foot in the ariport."

"So Betty, he-"

"Made a deal to help us..."

Tony's jaw dropped in shock. He closed it, staring at Gibbs, suddenly furious beyond measure. If his hands were free he might have strangled Gibbs right there.

"You're a sonofabitch."

Gibbs smiled sadly, agreeing, "The 's' does come after the second 'b'."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Short but important bit on the aftermath in the room. And I need to say to my frickin' AWESOME readers- I am SO glad you enjoyed the big reveal in the last chapter, and that most of you were surprised by Tony's revelation, and the sly behaviour of our silver fox. I SO very much appreciate you guys, for the supportive words and excitement about the story. I will be working on the final chapters of this story over the weekend, so it will likely wrap by Monday or Tuesday.

And then I will peruse my "to do" list on my profile page. If you read the upcoming stories- feel free to PM me with a vote on which you'd like me to start next...

MUCH LOVE- MG

* * *

><p>Tony was sitting, unfocused, and expressionless, tear tracks drying on his face.<p>

He hadn't said a word as Gibbs rummaged for the key to the cuffs, and finally released him from the chair.

He wouldn't look at Gibbs at all, mouth set in a grim line.

Gibbs knew Tony was as about upset as he'd ever been with him.

Tony slowly, painfully lifted his arms out and up from the back of the chair, absently flexing and rubbing them.

Gibbs wanted to help him, but he knew Tony would likely throw a punch at him if he touched him right now.

He sighed, and said, "I figure…you're pretty pissed off at me right now."

Tony didn't respond in any way.

Gibb walked around to stand in front of him.

"I know you probably will be for a while," Gibbs said gently, but almost stepped back as Tony lifted his head and locked his eyes onto Gibbs. Gibbs almost winced.

It was a cold, hard look. One he'd only ever seen Tony give to perps.

Gibbs took a controlled breath. He willed himself to keep his eyes locked on Tony's. "I hope once you're done wanting to kick my ass, you'll feel a little better that it's out in the open now."

Tony looked like he was going to say something, and then just scowled and looked down.

Gibbs saw Tony's hands were shaking. His breath was still shallow.

"Fornell has EMT's waiting downstairs. I want you to get checked out."

Tony didn't react or respond.

"Tony."

The tone of his voice when he responded was so thick with sadness and disappointment, Gibbs felt it through his heart like a knife. "Yeah, I heard you."

Gibbs sighed and nodded, walking out of the room.

Tony stared at the closed door.

He felt almost numb. First it had been shock, then pure rage, which he squashed down before it overwhelmed him.

How could Gibbs have done this?To him?

He trusted the man. Looked up to him….

What he'd done was like…breaking an unspoken pact. Between them. He hated him for it. He felt cold. He felt…violated. All over again. But it a totally new way.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

He tried to think hard, about the moment he'd said the words out loud, said them to Gibbs. The pain, and accumulated humiliation, of all the harm caused by Senior's selfishness…it was suffocating. It wasn't just being adopted…it was about being…cheated…

And though he did actually feel some twinge of relief, of release, in telling Gibbs…he'd just been cheated again. Betrayed.

Tony tried to control it, but found he just couldn't, and another wave of inner pain washed through him, leaving him almost breathless, bringing water to his eyes again.

"Shit," he blurted out to himself, letting out a half moan, half sob.

He might have just lost one of the most important people in his life.

* * *

><p>Fornell looked questioningly at Gibbs. "He okay?"<p>

Gibbs nodded, "I think so. Told him to go get checked out downstairs."

They were standing in the hallway, near the elevators. Some of the LEO's and another FBI were littered through the other side of the hallway, talking. They were waiting for Fornell's go ahead to process the room. Campanelli's men were nowhere to be seen, already being transported to a temporary facility to be booked before going to face charges.

"I didn't see him come out."

"No…" Gibbs shifted a little on his feet, "I think he needed a minute. Campanelli?"

"Landing in one hour. Marshalls are waiting for him."

Gibbs nodded, not looking as smug as Tobias would have expected…or liked.

He eyed Gibbs more closely. He knew something had gone down, between the two agents, since Gibbs told Fornell specifically not to come in unless Gibbs had yelled for him. It was risky, letting Gibbs and Tony drive from Vegas…but in the end, it worked out. Like most plans the concocted together. It was a nice plus too, that Sharlee Benton was able to defend herself against on of the dirtbags.

It was a dangerous game, since they didn't know exactly how many men Campanelli had sent after them, or exactly when and where they might strike.

Most of it though, went smoothly. Carmine "Betty" Niagro, had cracked in ten seconds flat when Fornell caught him trying to take Gibbs, and Vito Randazzo was easy to apprehend (once he saw the six armed men outside his door, and Gibbs looking like a lion about to kill a gazelle).

But this time, Fornell knew it was about more than catching the bad guys. He saw the stress in Gibbs' face. But he didn't want to push his old friend. Gibbs had told him Tony was having some trouble…likely because of his father's death. But instinct told Fornell there was more to it. He knew about what happened with Tommy Anselmo…at least a little about it from Gibbs. But- he hadn't been generous with the details. And Fornell knew it was to protect Tony.

He wanted to push. To ask Gibbs why he looked…like someone shot his dog, rather than someone who helped save DiNozzo's life, and put away several criminals.

Instead, he gazed at the dried blood at the side of the man's head.

"You might wanna' get checked out too. You're a bit of a mess, old friend."

He sighed. "Yeah," he said quietly, "you're probably right. I'll go down…"

"After DiNozzo comes out of that room?" Fornell said, with a smile.

"I'll give him another minute. He could be…dizzy or something. He had a lump on the back of his head… But I'm sure he's fine," Gibbs said, as if saying it would make it so.

Fornell would have expected Gibbs to be at Tony's side. Not out in the hallway. He was about to ask Gibbs why, when just then, Tony emerged from the room.

He was extremely pale, face a little bruised and one side of his mouth bloody and a bit swollen.

And he was moving slowly.

As he walked towards them, he picked up his head, and Fornell saw the closed down, desolate expression on his face.

It made him feel perplexed, and worried at the same time.

Tony eyed Gibbs for only and instant, and then looked at Fornell.

"Hey Fornell."

"DiNutso."

"I heard you've been catching some squirrels for us," Tony said softly. He stood by them and pressed the elevator button.

"Yep. Luckily we had the right nuts to lure them with."

Tony snorted, smiling a little, and then said, "Thanks." He put out his hand to Fornell, and Fornell shook it.

When the electronic ding of the elevator sounded, and the doors opened, Tony gave Fornell a courteous nod. And then got on, without looking at Gibbs again.

Gibbs watched Tony's face as the doors closed, and the cool mask remained in place until he was out of sight.

Fornell looked at Gibbs.

"You wanna'-"

"No," Gibbs said sadly. "I don't wanna' get into it. Suffice to say…sometimes tough love is… tougher than you think it's gonna' be…tougher than you."

Fornell smiled, laying a comforting hand on Gibbs' shoulder. A rare event. But somehow, he knew Gibbs was hurting almost as much as Tony looked to be.

"Nah. Nothin's tougher than you, you bastard."

Gibbs gave him a raised brow and little smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Fornell pressed the elevator button to summon the car back up. "Let's go down so they can clean you up and give you a band-aid for that hard head of yours."


	20. Chapter 20

After they got checked out by the EMT's, Gibbs went to the room and packed up their things, while Tony was still finishing up his statements to the LEO's and FBI.

He called DC and let the team know they were safe. He packed up the rental car, and checked out.

By the time he was done, most of the chaos was over. Fornell had already left, as did the ambulance, and there was only one police car in front of the hotel.

Tony was outside, leaning back to sit on a retaining wall. He was pale and still.

"DiNozzo, let's go," Gibbs called gently to him.

Tony looked at him. He was less of a mess now after the paramedics had cleaned up the blood off his face. But he still looked a bit disheveled and worn.

"What makes you think,"he said coldly, "I'm going anywhere with you?"

Gibbs sighed and tilted his head, "Besides the fact that I'm your friend? And you just got kidnapped and beaten today? I guess because I'm your ride and I already packed all your stuff in the car."

Tony rolled his eyes just slightly and shook his head.

"I should'a known," he mumbled angrily.

Gibbs ignored him and walked towards the rental car.

Tony had been trying to collect his thoughts, sitting outside in front of the hotel, but he was exhausted. He felt confused, betrayed...and alone.

And conflicted…

He was angrier with Gibbs than he had ever been. And was not sure if there was a way back after what Gibbs had done.

He also couldn't bear to think their friendship was done…

While he was still turning it all over in his mind, Gibbs pulled the car up.

He looked at Tony with a raised brow, expectantly.

Tony scowled, and sighed in frustration.

Then he got in the car, and buckled himself in without a word.

Tony was so tired that he started to fall asleep only thirty minutes in to the ride. He imagined Gibbs would be taking them to an airport, to catch a flight back to DC, where undoubtedly he was planning to drag Tony to see Rachel Cranston.

He dozed for a while, but occasionally opened his eyes to glance at the scenery drifting by the car window.

Suddenly he realized, they were backtracking.

"Where are we going?" he asked, turning his head to look at Gibbs.

The older man kept his blue eyes on the road.

"Still got some time off, remember?"

Tony was once again, confused. Did Gibbs mean to hang around with Tony somewhere for the next couple of weeks?

_Oh, Hell no_, he thought. How could Gibbs even imagine to doing such a thing?

"Where. Are. We. Going?" Tony tried again, in a steely tone.

"To Sharlee's."

It was a shock to him. He didn't know how to respond right away.

"I don't…"

"You really didn't get a chance to catch up. And I thought you might want to see her…to see if she's okay." Gibbs said the words without reproach.

Tony was slightly shamed by them, nonetheless. And felt a twinge of guilt, knowing in a peripheral way that he had been very wrapped up in himself for the last week plus. He knew it was the right thing to do.

He had been terrified that Campanelli's men were going to kill her. And he was grateful that Fornell had been on top of things.

He knew Gibbs was also part of the plan, and he had probably saved Tony's life again. But it was so hard to feel grateful, when Gibbs had also betrayed his trust.

Tony swallowed, shifting in the car seat a little, trying to release the new wave of tension in his body. Then he nodded his approval, "Okay."

The car was quiet for a while.

"What are _you_ going to do?" Tony asked Gibbs, looking out the window again and absently picking the seatbelt.

"Oh, I'm stayin' too, for a little bit." Gibbs saw Tony's hands fall to his lap and clench from the corner of his eye.

Tony sighed again, deeply. Gibbs didn't know if it was sadness or anger.

"Where?" Tony quipped. "Where are you staying?"

"With you, at Sharlee's."

"_**At**_ Sharlee's?"

"Yep. Spoke to her while you were still giving your statement. She has a basement apartment with no tenant in right now, and welcomed us both to stay and visit for a week or so."

Tony rubbed his eyes. His head was pounding now. A week or so. With Sharlee, and Gibbs. And her kids. And her dog.

Suddenly, Tony wanted to throw up.

"**You're outta' your mind, do you know that?"** Tony yelled suddenly at Gibbs, snapping his head to glare at him. "I don't …why the Hell are **you** staying?"

"You know why."

Gibbs seemed unaffected by Tony's outburst.

He had expected it.

Not another word passed between the two heading back to Paradise.

* * *

><p>Tony had fallen asleep again, and when they pulled in to Sharlee's, Gibbs smiled that the house literally had a white pickett fence around it. It was a light blue and white colonial. The front yard was full of bushy wildflowers and cacti.<p>

Gibbs parked in front of the stone walk that lead up from the curb to the house, since Sharlee's car was parked in the driveway.

Tony seemed barely awake, as Gibbs roused him to come inside.

When he knocked on the front door, a dog barked from inside the house.

Sharlee flung open the door, smiling, and then took in the haggard looks of both men, with their bruises and cuts.

"Oh Lordy, you two look like somethin' chewed your asses up and spat you out." She quickly opened the door and motioned them in.

Tony barely took in the light grey and cream livingroom, decorated with simple but warm modern furnishings.

He made straight for the immense grey leather sofa.

Though he tried to have some manners, smiling at SHarlee and weakly saying, "Hi Shar," his head leaned back and his eyes closed almost immediately.

She shook her head, watching her puggle, Bandit, sniffing Tony's legs with his nose twitching, letting little puff of air out as he sampled the man's scents.

She looked at Gibbs, whose eyes drifted over Tony almost sadly.

"He's _that _tired. Wow," Sharlee said softly, and then said "How bout' I get you some coffee brewing and we can talk in the kitchen. The kids are out at the movies with friends but they'll be back later."

Gibbs nodded appreciatively. "Thanks Sharlee. And…thanks for letting us both stay."

"Agent Gibbs," she said softly but kept her dark eyes on him, "Dee saved me from raising my kids in a shithole, in a bad neighborhood…it's a long story, but I can never repay him for what he did for us. SO…I figure, since the danger's passed, and I can help out a little, it's not trouble. And I can tell what kind of man you are, and how much you care for him."

Gibbs smiled at her, but his eyes looked tense. "I wish he knew that."

She cocked her head, "C'mon, let's go sit and you tell Ms. Sharlee what's goin' on with you two…"

Gibbs knew Tony would be furious, if he knew what he told Sharlee. He avoided talking about some details about Tony's childhood and Tommy Anselmo. Normally, he would never talk so much. And sharing someone else's secrets was not his way. But the stress he'd been under in trying to help Tony, and deal with Campanelli was too much, and there was no basement stocked with Bourbon and wood projects available here. And he hoped to prepare Sharlee, in case Tony opened up to her, so that she could better help him.

Tony had slipped into a downward spiral that was devastating, and though the truth was finally out, he still wasn't sure Tony was coming to grips with it.

He was afraid for Tony to become anymore unglued than he already was.

After an hour, Sharlee sat back in her warm orange and brown kitchen, and looked at Gibbs, shaking her head.

"Agent Gibbs-"

"Jethro. I think we left formality a little while ago."

"Jethro," she smiled a little at him, holding her cup on the table in front of her,"I'm very sorry…that Dee's gone through all's this...but he's gonna' pull through."

Gibbs let out a shaky breath. "I've never seen him like this…"

"Dee was an only child, and left on his own, way too much. He's used to goin' off, lickin' his wounds on his own…from long before you ever laid eyes on him. I think…you saw that he was…overwhelmed this time, and hasn't been able to swallow it down. You did the right thing, getting him to talk."

She saw Gibbs' guilty expression.

"Oh I know he's not happy with you right now. He'll come around."

Just then, they heard Bandit's toenails hit the tile on the kitchen floor.

Tony followed after the dog, but stood in the doorway hesitantly, looking at them both.

He pushed away the idea they were discussing him.

"He Sharlee," he said quietly.

She got up from the table and immediately hugged him.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Dee."

He softly snorted.

"Me?" he pulled back to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"Oh I'm fine, sugar," she smiled like a Cheshire cat. "No one gets the drop on Ms. Sharlee anymore. Those days are long gone."

Tony smiled at her and nodded. But then suddenly looked crestfallen.

"I'm so sorry Shar," he almost whispered. "It's my fault you were in danger."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dee. You think I don't deal with dangerous people from time to time here in Paradise? And you didn't even know that guy was after you til' you were already out this way. How could you have known?"

Tony shrugged a little.

"Ohhh, right," she said facetiously, "I forgot you have one of them crystal balls to warn you, and neglected to take a peek before you came out here."

Tony scowled and then gave her a faint smile.

"Well," she laid with a chuckle, "you sit down at the table and I'll give you some coffee. And I can predict, you'll be feelin' much better soon."

He shook his head and sat, opposite Gibbs.

He would still barely look at him.

"How's your head?" Gibbs asked.

"Still on."

"That's debatable."

"If there's a doubt, maybe it's because I don't handle getting mind-fucked by my best friend so well."

Sharlee took in the tension that had quickly erupted between the two men. She put the coffee down in front of Tony, breaking their focus.

"Thanks," Tony said, looking away from Gibbs again.

No one spoke for a long moment.

"Sharlee, where's my car?" Tony asked, after sipping his coffee.

"Shipped it back to DC this morning, sugar," she said sweetly, going to her fridgerator to take out more cream.

Tony looked at Gibbs accusingly, but the older man's pale blue eyes were drifting around the kitchen.

"I see," Tony said plainly. "I suppose Gibbs told you to get it done this morning, so I wouldn't be able to leave when I got here."

She was about to try to smooth out the fuffled feathers, when Gibbs spoke up.

"You wanna' leave, Tony? I can't stop you. But look at what you've been doing! You know damned well that you're not thinking straight! How would you expect me to let you back on the team without a psych eval at this point?"

Tony clenched his teeth, narrowing his eyes at Gibbs. "Who says I'm coming back at all?"

Gibbs' eyes suddenly shifted, with something between sadness and fear. "You've proven to me more than once that you'll do whatever you like. But I'm gonna' ask you…" Gibbs couldn't help the mist coming over his vision. "Just…stay a few days. Give yourself a chance to stop running. Talk to me or Sharlee. I understand you're still pissed off. But…I…did what I did because…" Gibbs' voice broke a little, suddenly making Tony's resolve waver, "I'm worried about you. I'm worried you're gonna' do some serious harm to yourself. I need you to remember that…we're family."

Tony looked away, feeling suddenly frightened, and lost. It was so much easier just to be angry. Gibbs was letting the worry show, the fear, and the love…

Tony struggled inside, still feeling so unworthy.

"The team. Me. You. We're family. And…we can't lose you,"Gibbs forced out.

Sharlee had sat next to Tony, and put her hand on his, giving it a squeeze.

"It's just a few days, Dee. And I told the kids you were comin'. Jacob remembers you, you know. And he was excited to see you."

Bandit was again, pressing his nose up to Tony's knee, puffing out air through his nostrils, and then looked at Tony with his huge, soft brown eyes.

_Christ, even the dog is in on this, _he thought, with the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Okay," he said breathlessly. "A few days."

They were so exhausted after the chat in the kitchen, that they got their things from the car, and immediately turned in to the basement apartment. Tony was asleep again almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Gibbs was on the crimson suede couch, and fell asleep while wondering if he'd made the right decision bringing Tony to Sharlee's.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** **Warning** : Tony has a disturbing dream, with a hint of noncon. CONsider that before you read.

* * *

><p>The next day Sharlee's children were excited to see the house guests come upstairs at 10:30.<p>

Tony marveled at how they had grown.

Jacob was a handsome, tall young man, with one more year of high school to finish.

His sister Celia, and become a beautiful teenager, looking even more like Sharlee did when she was young.

They were introduced to Gibbs, and Tony once more.

They all sat at the kitchen table with assorted cereals and fruit, and Sharlee poured coffee for them.

"I remember you comin' to our house," Jacob said,"when mom got beat up."

His sister looked at him nervously.

Sharlee rubbed her daughter's back for a quick moment. "It was a long time ago, honey. Don't fret over it."

"Yeah?" Tony smiled. "I remember you too. You were like, a quarter of the size you are now."

Jacob was very solid and 6'2".

"Football?" Tony asked, eyeing Jacob and then pouring milk on his cereal.

"Yeah," Jacob smiled."How'd you know?"

"Duh," his sister said, "they're instigators."

"Investigators, smart ass," he said, laughing, throwing several frosted cereal squares at her.

"Jacob," Sharlee warned.

"Sorry mom."

Gibbs took it all in quietly, with amusement.

"Just a good guess," Tony said.

"How long are you staying?" Jacob asked.

"Only a few days," Tony replied.

"We're on summer break, so we can do stuff," Jacob offered. "You know, like, see the grand canyon. Ride a donkey."

His sister giggled.

"Sure…"Tony said, "maybe tomorrow?" He looked at Sharlee for approval.

"Sure, Dee," she said, sitting down finally and putting some fruit in her bowl.

"What're you going to do today?" Celia asked, looking between Gibbs and Tony.

"Well," Tony said, "I'm still kinda tired, so I might lie low today."

"Maybe later…wanna' throw the football around?" Jacob asked him hopefully.

"Sure," Tony smiled.

"What about me?" Celia whined, "what do I get to do?"

Sharlee rolled her eyes, and smiled at Tony.

"Ya' got horses around here?" Gibbs asked.

"Oh, yeah," Celia said, eyes widening.

Gibbs looked at Sharlee. "She ride?"

"Some," Sharlee said.

"I love horseback riding! You'll take me?" She looked at her mother with her most imploring, buttery sweet expression. "Please? Mom can I?"

"Yes but I'm comin' along too."

The teenage girl squealed in delight. "Awesome!"

It worked out well, that Gibbs went riding with Sharlee and Celia, while Jacob went out with his friends, and Tony had some time to himself.

He was a little surprised at himself, that his first urge wasn't to grab his things, and rent a car, and go.

No, he'd given his word he would stay.

_Gibbs_, he thought and scowled. _Slippery as seaweed._

He knew he wouldn't be able to resist Sharlee and her kids.

Bandit jumped up on the couch next to him, turning around several times before laying against Tony and balling up for a nap.

Tony sighed, "Good idea, Bandit." He put his legs up on the couch, still feeling drained from everything.

The small-ish dog re-adjusted, laying out straght along Tony's side.

He absently pet the knobby head and velvety ears.

Bandit was fawn color, with a dark muzzle and cute black dots on the sides of his face.

"Whaddy'a think, Bandit? I've been a bit of a psycho lately, huh?"

The dog cracked his eyes open for a moment, and then closed them again.

"I dunno'…everything got turned upside down on me when I read that letter." Tony looked at the dog's paws, gently touching a toe-pad and nail with his index finger. "I know what you would have done. You'd just eat the letter. Or…" Tony snorted to himself," peed on it."

He laughed a little at his own stupid thought.

"Bet you know lots about loyalty, though. Being a dog and all. That's a big topic for people. Not so much for dogs right? I mean…you get fed right? Two or three square?" Tony went back to gently petting Bandit. "Probably get some treats…" the dog cracked an eye open again. "Sorry- didn't mean to tease you." Bandit closed the eye. "But you know, they cover you pretty good. Food, shelter, some affection. And you're a loyal dog. Just like that. Simple."

Tony took a breath and let out a shaky sigh.

"I dunno' right now if Gibbs is _loyal_. I mean, he is, right? Because, he chased me to Wrong Island," Tony looked at the dog, "trust me, you'd call it that too if you knew. And he chased me across the country. To make sure I was okay. I'm…definitely not okay, am I? But…that can't excuse what he did…can it?"

He felt pain in his heart.

He was, in fact, tired of feeling bad. Tired of hating himself. Tired of trying to run from the truth of it all.

And Gibbs had been the one to bring him here, to stop for just a little while…to get off the rollercoaster…

He kept thinking for a while, but eventually his breathing evened out, almost mimicking the heavy sleep breathing of the dog.

* * *

><p>Voices woke him, pulling him from someplace he already couldn't' remember being.<p>

He picked up on layers of sounds. Sharlee cooking in the kitchen. The tv in the livingroom on, but low, and male voices talking in soft tones across the room.

Jacob and Gibbs.

"So…you work with Dee?"

"Yeah. He's my Senior Field Agent."

"You guys have a dangerous job."

"Yeah. But, it's worth it. We help people. Help keep the country safe too."

"You and Tony are close right?" Jacob's voice almost held a little envy in it.

_Envy?_

Gibbs hesitated. "Yeah, we're close."

"Almost like…well, you're old enough to be his Dad right?"

Gibbs chuckled. "I look that old to you? No-don't answer that. No, I'm not quite old enough to be his Dad."

"You have kids, Jethro?"

Another hesitation from Gibbs, and Tony could almost see with his eyes closed, the far-off, sad look Gibbs got whenever people asked him that.

"No."

Jacob was quiet for another moment. "A lot of Dads come to the football meets, and the games. Sometimes I wish…you know, that I had one. But," Jacob quickly covered, "my Mom is amazing."

"She is," Gibbs said warmly. "One good parent, makes up for a lot of bad stuff," Gibbs said.

Jacob was quiet again.

"Tony seems pretty tired still to be sleeping this long. Let's you and I go toss the ball around,"Gibbs offered.

"Cool," Jacob said, and Tony could hear them moving to go outside.

Tony hadn't opened his eyes. The conversation had affected him. Deeply.

He remembered some of what he and Gibbs had gone through with Tommy, and the aftermath of the crazy man's attempt at destroying him.

_((__"What else? What else is there if that's not all Gibbs? Just say what's on your mind!"_

_Tony, still trembling, was looking at Gibbs now, uncertain what he was going to say._

"**It's killing me! Alright**_? __Its killing me because…because I love him, like he was my own son. But I let him down, as bad as his __**real **__Dad did."_

_He turned to Tony, who was obviously shocked at the words Gibbs had said._

_"I'm sorry Tony...I'm so sorry..." Gibbs looked at him, desperately. "I wish to God I could have killed that animal before he ever laid a finger on you…"_

_Tony looked so utterly taken aback...but something changed a little, in his eyes. Rachel saw it…was relieved to see it._

_Tony stared at Gibbs for another moment before quickly reaching for him, and pulling him into a tight embrace. Raw emotion leaked from his words "I would have been lucky to have you as my father...and you could never, ever let me down like he did. This. Was. Not. Your fault. And I need you. I can't get through this without you Boss." He tightened his arms around the older man, to drive it in," So please...you can't change what happened, any more than I can."_))

The memory was bittersweet.

Gibbs was the only real father figure in his life, the only example of what it was like to have someone always have his back.

What Gibbs did really was wrong…but nowhere near the wrongs of Senior. Of the neglect, and the abuse he was left to suffer.

It wasn't the same was it?

He was struggling in his mind with whether or not he should be so angry with Gibbs, and whether or not he deserved him anyway.

* * *

><p>Tony ate dinner with them, quietly taking in the stories of Gibbs horseback riding with Sharlee and Celia, and how Jacob went over the picket fence catching one of his throws.<p>

Sharlee and Gibbs eyed Tony suspiciously, since he had slept most of the day, and was very quiet.

After dinner, Tony went down to the basement, feeling drained once more. Maybe everything had finally just caught up with him…

He fell asleep in his clothes on the bed.

_He was in his father's study._

_He was playing on the piano, looking down at his adult hands gliding over the keys._

_The light from the floor lamp made the sheet music on the piano glow before his eyes._

_The music was sweet. He didn't know the melody…just followed the notes..._

_Then he was suddenly naked, on the piano bench, still playing. Exposed. Vulnerable._

_Hands ghosted over his back, drifting up, over his shoulders, down over his chest._

_Terror started to cause his heart to pound heavily in his chest._

_He didn't dare stop playing, because Bobby would punish him._

_One of the hands slid down to pinch a nipple, as he faltered for a moment._

_He kept playing, feeling the water leaking from his eyes, down his face…_

_The music…he could still hear it, but now he was being bent over the closed piano. Where were the sounds coming from?_

_He heard ragged breaths in his ear, as the hard organ nudging up against his hole forced its way into his body._

_He gasped, and cried out, as it pushed all the way in, while large hands that burned like fire had a vice-grip on his hips._

_The edges of the piano bruised him painfully, as the body behind him started to move, slowly and then, more violently._

"_My good boy…" the voice in his ear said, and he could smell the alcohol coming from the man's breath._

"_Please…I don't want this…" He begged for it to stop as it became increasingly frenzied and started to become horribly painful._

"_Does it hurt?" the man behind him asked, in obvious pleasure, putting one hand on the piano, over Tony's shoulder._

_Tony whimpered, and saw the sleeve on the arm attached to that hand. And the cufflinks with the initials AD. His father's._

_An overwhelming wave of terror and shame came over him, rushing into him and making his ears roar…_

Suddenly Gibbs was over him, calling his name with worried eyes.

He couldn't hear very well at first, with the blood pumping crazily through his body, pounding in his ears.

He suddenly realized he was shaking, and though cold, he was covered in sweat.

He blinked a few times, realizing he'd had a seriously fucked up nightmare, and Gibbs' hands were on his shoulders.

Suddenly, he knocked Gibbs back a little with his hands, "Don't!" he cried in a strangled voice.

"Tony!" Gibbs repeated his name, and moved forward again, trying to ascertain if he was awake or not.

From somewhere inside him, blinding white hot fury erupted from Tony, and he lunged forward at Gibbs with a growl, taking him by surprise and knocking him to the ground.

Only thrown for a moment, Gibbs reacted almost out of instinct, flipping Tony over, and pinning him down onto the floor, face down with his arms held firmly in place behind him.

Tony's mind immediately went to the cement floor, the chains…the pain, that lurked in his memory since Tommy…

Gibbs wasn't sure what was happening when he woke Tony up from the nightmare. He was caught off guard by Tony's sudden attack, seeing a flash of rage in the green eyes.

But as he reacted and pinned Tony down to gain control over the situation, he felt something shift in the trembling body under him, and Tony gasped, and started to shake, with uneven choked sobs.

"God," Gibbs breathed, letting him go and getting up quickly, as Tony curled up quickly into a ball on the floor.

"Tony," Gibbs called, hoarsely.

He knelt on the floor in front of him, afraid to touch him again.

Tony's body uncurled a bit, and he opened his tear filled eyes, and said, "I trusted you."

Gibbs felt the stab, but took a breath, determined to ride it out.

"No," he said sadly, "you didn't."

"What? " Tony sobbed, confused.

"You could have told me. Just told me," Gibbs said, voice thick with too much emotion.

Tony didn't expect those words.

"I couldn't...didn't know how...so angry…I couldn't make the words come out...Thought I might come part…"

"You have," Gibbs said softly, with a brow raised. "You have come apart. That's why...why I had to find a way to get you to talk about it. I didn't meant to hurt you, but you have been so off kilter...and the drugs? And…God, Tony, all of it. I'm still here…I'm still here for you,"Gibbs stroked Tony's head just once, to offer the gesture of comfort to him, but not to overwhelm.

Tony became quiet, still gasping but not choking as much.

Gibbs continued, "You're a Federal Agent. You've seen people spiral out...you know where you've been headed...and...I'd rather...rather..."Gibbs saw so much pain in his friends eyes, he struggled to finish.

"Rather…lose me as a friend than see me destroy myself," Tony whispered.

"Yes."

Tony closed his eyes, feeling too many emotions all at once.

"C'mon," he felt the hand tentatively resting on his shoulder. "Off the floor."

He let Gibbs help him back up, and he laid right back down on the bed, too utterly spent to say another word.


	22. Chapter 22

The ride to the Grand Canyon had taken several hours.

Tony was quiet once again, but seemed a little more at ease around everyone, including Gibbs.

Jacob and Celia were bickering in the rear of the van, until Gibbs growled, "Can it!"

And then there was silence.

Tony smiled from the passenger seat.

When Sharlee pulled into the observation area, they were all grateful to get out and stretch their legs.

The two teens ran off, already inside the information office looking for soda.

Sharlee rolled her eyes, "I better get after them, before they grab litre bottles for themselves and become ticking time bombs. Go on. We'll catch up."

Tony smiled, "Sure thing, sugar."

She grinned at him using her term.

He turned to Gibbs who was quietly watching him.

Tony put his sunglasses on. It was a perfectly clear sky, and only 13:30.

He walked right past Gibbs, towards the large observation platform.

The sight before him left him almost breathless.

He slowly wandered to the rail, looking out on the peaches, russets, and shady purples of the vast broken maze of rocky terrain.

He felt Gibbs take place next to him.

They were silent, for a long time, letting the feeling sink in, of being small, as if looking into the face of God.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded, swallowing down a bit of the awe. "Yes." He took a breath, letting it out slowly.

After another moment, he bit his lip, and gripped the rail in front of him.

Turning his head towards Gibbs, he slowly said, "It…reminds me…of reading the letter."

Gibbs blinked, looking at him, seeing Tony's eyes moving a little under the polarized lenses.

He waited.

"I mean…" Tony looked down for a bit, then back to Gibbs,"I felt like I got thrown in the middle of…that," he pointed out to the canyon.

Gibbs tilted his head a bit. "That's pretty far out."

"Yeah. And thing is…I dunno' why, Boss."

Gibbs relished Tony's use of the word 'Boss', the normalcy of it made him hopeful.

"I felt like…I was an outsider in my own life, and I just didn't know how to get back…and, I still…still dunno' how to get back. When I was a kid…I was so…alone. Just...there was no one to watch my back. And I _know_. Before you say it. I know you're here, doing just that. It just…I dunno', it just sent me back there…and I don't want it to be like this…"TOny's vice reduced to almost a whisper, "I can't be like this."

"I know, Tony."

He saw Tony's brow knit together, as he shifted on his feet, his breath picking up as he said sadly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Boss."

Gibbs put a hand up to his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He stared at Tony for a moment, "Me too."

Tony nodded again, ducking his head down a bit.

Gibbs let him go.

"You think we'll…be okay?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm still pretty pissed off at you…but…I know I can trust you, to do what you think is right. For me. Even when it does piss me off. I guess that's one way we are like family…" Tony shuffled again, looking out at the canyon. "I mean…I expect an awful lot from you," he smiled as he turned his head to Gibbs again. "Maybe a little nervy considering how I've been handling things."

The older man smiled at him. "You don't expect anything from me that I don't expect from myself."

Gibbs waited another moment and asked, "Senior tell you who they are?"

"No, just the name of an agency in London, called Martouf & Sparrow, where he and my mom went to arrange it. They stayed over in Europe almost a year, to pass it off that I was really theirs…"

"You wanna' find out then? Maybe when we're back in DC?"

Tony blew out a breath. "I dunno'…I don't think so, Boss. I'm such a mess anyway right now."

"If you want to seek them out later, I'll help you. And I know Abby and McGee will."

Tony nodded, unable to speak suddenly, and looked like he was going to lose control for just a second. He clenched his jaw and looked out onto the sunlit expanse before him.

"You're gonna' be okay," Gibbs said, and believing it for the first time, since Tony had tossed his father's ashes in the gulley.

Tony smiled, looking back at his friend once more, "I know I will, Boss. I've got all the family I need in DC."

**THE END**


End file.
